I Think I Love You
by eatenbyagiantclam
Summary: When Atobe asked for her help so movingly, how could she say no? But Sakuno didn't realise the mess she was getting into when she agreed to pretend to be his girlfriend. Worse, she's beginning to think he's not so bad after all. Could she actually be falling for yet another impossibly arrogant boy? AtoSaku
1. 1

**A/N:** _First fanfiction for the tenipuri fandom. Was challenged into writing a pairing different from the really popular RyoSaku, so why not try my hand at the ultra rare AtoSaku! Please be patient as this is my first serious project and the romance will advance slowly but surely. Also, English isn't my primary language, so please bear with me, thanks. _

**DISCLAIMER:** _**Prince of Tennis**_** is only my writing playground. Sadly.**

**Part 1: The Request**

Atobe Keigo was perfection incarnate. The King of Tennis. Hyotei's Emperor. Good at everything. Inferior to no one. God's gift to the world. You knew it. He knew it. Everyone knew it.

Which is why his sharp, brilliant mind cannot at first register the soft stutter of words coming from the petite girl with the long pigtails standing awkwardly in front of him.

"Pardon. Ore-sama didn't catch that?"

She blushed redder, if it was even possible, and poked her index fingers together nervously. "N-No. I, ah, I'm afraid I, err, can't accept your offer." She immediately bowed her head. "I'm sorry!"

There was no way...not in a million years.

"...Did Ore-sama just heard you say 'no'?"

She bowed even lower and only repeated, "I'm sorry!"

See? As he had thought, it was not the fault of his perfect auditory system that he was hearing things. She really _did_ say 'no'. Atobe was not at all fazed, though. In fact, he looked at her with great pity in his dark eyes and reached out to take one of her trembling hands in his. "Ah, Ore-sama gets it. You're shy. How cute! But Ore-sama assures you, this date will be the best thing that has ever happened to you! Be glad that you have been chosen by Ore-sama to attend one of his grand parties!"

Poor Sakuno. She'd observed, from the times she'd been present for the matches between Seigaku and Hyotei, that the self-proclaimed King of Tennis was a huge walking ego the size of Jupiter. Impossible not to notice, really. Still, to see it up-close and personal was overwhelming. Why was he here at Seigaku anyway and why was he blatantly flirting with _her_ of all people? Weren't there enough girls at Hyotei to harass? She opened her mouth and closed it and opened it again like a gasping fish, not knowing how to reply to such overblown conceit and actually feeling one of her rare moments of anger. Unfortunately, anger usually made her stutter even worse than it already was. "N-Now s-see here, I said—"

Her words were cut short when Atobe's ringtone decided to rear its head. "Pardon Ore-sama." He smiled politely and, with his free hand, pulled out his fancy-smancy iPhone. He frowned when he recognised the number flashing on the screen but answered it anyway. "Hello?"

"HOW COULD YOU!?"

Sakura cringed. She really didn't need to be part of this drama.

"This is the fifth time you've called. Ore-sama knows he is irresistible," Atobe smirked, "but he insists that you do not continue stalking him or he will pursue a restraining order."

The girl on the other side of the call nearly choked in her rage. "How DARE you! Do you know who I am? I AM YOUR FUTURE WIFE! You CAN'T treat me like some—"

"Ah, Ore-sama must go now. He is busy with some personal business." Before the mystery girl could launch into a tiresome rant, Atobe completely switched off the iPhone so that there would be no more unnecessary calls.

Sakura stood, embarrassed and wanting very much to leave. People were beginning to stare at them, this strange mismatched couple causing a scene at Seigaku's front gate.

Too bad Atobe still had a firm grip on one of her hands.

"As Ore-sama was saying before he was_ rudely_ interrupted, he requests that you come with him to the dinner party held in his father's honour."

"I-I'm s-sorry but—"

"In fact, Ore-sama will even grant you the status of being his girlfriend!"

"Wh-Wha—"

"It will be a night to remember for the rest of your life!"

"But I—"

"You should be honoured by this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!"

"That's—"

"And not to worry, Ore-sama will make sure that—"

"NO!"

He blinked.

Sakuno's face could have burned eggs. She couldn't believe she had shouted like that! But Atobe's selective hearing had left her no other choice. While Atobe's grip on her loosened from shock that someone had _dared_ say no to him, she took the chance to quickly escape as fast as her legs could carry her. She only stopped when she was a good distance from the school.

She grinned. Finally! She was safe!

The grin crumbled when she realised she was also lost.

...

Drat.

* * *

**Much Later...**

* * *

"T-Thanks for bringing me home, Ryoma-kun."

The young tennis genius only nodded his head in reply before turning to leave from the gate of Sakuno's home. The pigtailed girl watched him walk off, her soft blushing face a bright neon sign to the world that she harboured a serious crush on this boy—this boy who had been kind to her even as he was rude and rough around the edges. Ever since she was twelve, she'd run and stumbled after him with adoration in her eyes. Now she was fourteen going on fifteen and she was finally breaking out of her shell. She would never give up on tennis, the sport that had opened her eyes to the intensity of passion and introduced such inspiring people into her life. But Ryoma had also shown her that one should follow the path they wanted to walk on without regret.

And that path for her was baking.

She had never dared to confess her feelings to him. She knew it'd never get anywhere, especially since he was destined for great things. In fact, he'd only recently come back to Japan after the US Open for a short break.

Who knew when he'd leave Japan again?

Her heart ached. As it always did when thinking of Ryoma.

This year, she decided, I will get over him.

"Oh, so that's why you turned down Ore-sama's most generous offer!"

Sakuno nearly jumped out of her skin at that voice. Only one person she knew had the guts to address himself in such a way. "A-Atobe-san."

Atobe, who had been leaning against a nearby wall witnessing the _tender_ moment between Sakuno and Ryoma, strutted over to Sakuno like he owned the land he walked on. She widened her eyes and tried to judge whether she could be fast enough to run past him to the front door. Oh, how she wished her grandmother was home now! But according to Ryoma, she was still at school in discussion with Tezuka. "W-What are you doing here?" she asked, silently adding '_And how did you know where I live? Are you stalking me, you hypocrite!?'_

Of course, she was too polite to say so to his face.

He gave her an imperious 'isn't it obvious?' expression. "Why, to continue where we left off."

"B-But didn't I say—"

"Yes, yes." Atobe waved off her words with a bored sigh. "But Ore-sama was hoping to change your mind." He looked at her with a sudden calculating look in his eyes. "So it's Tezuka's prodigy that made you hesitate, hmm?"

Hesitate? Sakuno wanted to use her braids as a choking hazard for Atobe's oh-so graceful neck. Surely this was how Mitsu-nii felt whenever he was forced to hear the Hyotei captain rant off about how _awesome_ he was in a thousand different ways. Giving up at rejecting him again (and being ignored), Sakuno sighed and wondered aloud, "Why me?"

She had the shock of her life when she noticed how solemn and sincere he suddenly sounded. "Because you're the only girl I know who hasn't thrown herself at me."

"E-Eh?"

"Sakuno-chan, right?"

Now she was officially dumbstruck. He...he actually _remembered_ her name? She'd always been the wallpaper that classmates fail to even notice and whose crush never bothered to give a second glance, but this student from Hyotei who was practically royalty and rarely even met her _knew her name_?

What parallel universe did she fall into?

"Look," his dark eyes were so intense that Sakuno found she could not look away, "just listen to me first. And if you still refuse (although why you would is beyond Ore-sama), I will no longer bother you."

Sakuno nodded.

He looked down. "My mother is sick."

She remained silent as Atobe turned to look at something far above. "Breast cancer. She was diagnosed a few months back."

"I-I'm sorry."

"Why should you be?" The arrogant rich boy gave a half-hearted shrug. "You didn't cause it. In any case, she has had treatment. The best money can buy. We thought it was over after the chemotherapy and surgery." His face grew hard. "But it wasn't. It came back and spread a little more."

Sakuno felt her eyes water but she blinked them back.

"I've kept quiet about it. Nothing to worry the team over. I'm still captain of the Hyotei team, after all." Atobe squared his shoulders with that proud look in his eyes that Sakuno found she no longer minded. "But she's anxious about me being happy. I told her I was, but she said I needed a woman to support me if...she ever leaves. She's traditional like that." There was something soft in his eyes that spoke clearly of what this woman was in his life.

Even so, Sakuno didn't understand why it had to be _her_. And she told him so.

"Didn't you hear Ore-sama?" He cocked an elegant eyebrow. "Because Ore-sama is tired of women looking at him and seeing only a walking ATM machine. And most of the ones who don't are usually too old or already in a relationship. Ore-sama is not a home-wrecker." He reached out to gently grab one of Sakuno's hand again, just like that afternoon.

But this time, she did not try to pull away.

"You don't irritate Ore-sama," he said candidly, "so it has to be you." He squeezed her hand. "Sakuno...be Ore-sama's girlfriend until the next surgery. Ore-sama he..." Atobe closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and lowered his head.

"..._I _need your help."

This was all too much. The King of Hyotei, arrogant and proud, a thousand times more talented than her in tennis, chased after by a multitude of fangirls and boys, whose killer looks and bank account could have bought off any drop-dead gorgeous supermodel to hang on his arm, had humbled himself to ask _her_, plain ol' invisible Sakuno, for help.

For his mother.

She melted. Naturally.

"All right."

He looked up.

Sakuno's face was set in determination.

"I'll do it. I'll help you."

**TBC**


	2. 2

_**A/N:**_ _Thanks so much for the support, guys! And without further ado, the next chapter!_

**Part 2: Rumours**

Sakuno couldn't believe it.

She'd actually agreed to pretend to be Atobe Keigo's girlfriend.

The King of Hyotei's girlfriend.

_Her_.

Cowardly, she had tried to avoid talking about Atobe and their little agreement with Obaa-chan last evening, which resulted in an awkward dinner, some broken dinner plates, and a deeply suspicious Sumire. Sakuno promised herself she'd confess everything to Obaa-chan. Tomorrow. Maybe. When she had time to think of a good strategy to gently break the news to her grandmother that 'Oh yeah, did I mention that I'm dating Atobe Keigo but not really?'.

She sighed. Too late for regrets now.

Besides, it was for a good deed. He'd asked rather nicely (especially for Atobe), and how could she refuse such a personal request that came from the heart?

Obaa-chan would surely understand.

For a long moment, she sat unmoving at her desk in her bedroom, staring impassively at her unfinished math homework. Then, slowly, she opened one of her desk drawers and gazed longingly at the picture of a young woman who was practically an older, carbon copy of Sakuno sitting on top of some books. From the long, thick russet hair let loose around her shoulders, to her round brown eyes and the shy smile on her lovely face.

Sakuno traced the face on the picture tenderly.

"Okaa-san..."

* * *

**The Next Day...**

* * *

Sakuno arrived at school that morning to receive weird looks and whispers from the student population. As she walked into her classroom, she wondered if she'd done something wrong. She frowned to herself, her inborn insecurity eating at her. Was it her face? Her hair?

Maybe she should go and check with a mirror...

"Sa-chan!"

Her bubbly best friend and classmate glomped her from behind, smiling widely in her distinctive Tomoka-way.

"Ah, T-Tomo-chan!" The pigtailed girl smiled at her. "How are you?"

"Fine, fine!" Tomoka waved a hand airily, then promptly went into gossip mode. "Listen, there's a rumour going on. Such a silly one too!" She leaned in excitedly to whisper into Sakuno's ear. "Everyone's saying that you were asked out on a date by Hyotei's tennis captain, Atobe Keigo."

"W-WHAT?!"

"I know. Ridiculous, right? Why would that arrogant king wannabe even _come_ to Seigaku?" Tomoka looked satisfied at Sakuno's horrified reaction, not knowing that the _real_ reason that her friend was red-faced was because the overdramatic tennis captain who suffered from delusions of grandeur (and, admittedly, earned some of it) really _did_ ask her out.

And the whole school knew about it.

_So that's why they were giving me those looks..._

Sakuno felt like digging a hole and hiding there for the rest of her life.

"So is it true?" Horio Satoshi suddenly bounded over to intrude in her mushroom cloud of depression.

Tomoka shot the uni-browed boy a look of annoyance. "True _what_?"

"You know," he coughed exaggeratedly, "that Sakuno-chan is actually Atobe Keigo's fiancée and they've been secretly dating for months now because they came from rival schools and support rival tennis teams so they have to be apart publicly like Romeo and Juliet!"

Tomoka blinked in amazement at his rushed long-winded single sentence, whereas Sakuno felt like fainting dead away. How did she go from _dating_ the rich tennis star to having a tragic relationship and becoming his fiancée within 24 hours? Did the students of Seigaku really have_ nothing_ else to do but spread idle gossip about her nonexistent love life like...like a bunch of bored fishwives? And here she was, hoping that her so-called 'relationship' with the flamboyant tennis captain would only be known to Hyotei students and his parents at this stage...

Probably naive. But hey, she lived in hope.

She inhaled deeply. No. She had to calm down. She couldn't really say she _wasn't _Atobe's girlfriend (albeit a pretend one) but admitting the half-truth would only add fuel to the fire. Rumours were rumours. It would die down eventually as long as she kept her cool. So keep your cool, Sakuno, she told herself firmly. Remember, WWOD—What Would Obaa-chan Do? Sumire wouldn't roll over and die of embarrassment. No way! She'd fight! Fight-o!

While Sakuno was quietly giving herself this pep talk, Horio was cowering under Tomoka's evil glare. "No, she's not dating him! That's not possible!" she denied heatedly. "Sakuno only likes one tennis genius and it sure isn't that stuck-up peacock! Right, Sakuno?"

Said girl flinched and looked sideways guiltily. "Err..."

"You're blocking my way."

The trio turned their heads to see a slightly irritated Ryoma looking at them with a bored expression. Sakuno was half-overjoyed at the interruption and half-dismayed that she had inconvenienced him by standing right at the doorway. Blushing, she practically jumped to the side and bowed in apology. "I-I'm sorry."

Ryoma shrugged carelessly and walked into the classroom.

Horio gaped at him before turning to whisper to Kachiro and Mizuno behind him "He doesn't know, does he?" to which the two only shrugged back helplessly. The uni-browed boy nodded his head several times, crossing his arms all-knowingly. "I see. So it's a love triangle and Ryoma-kun isn't even aware of it..." Not that anyone was really surprised. Ryoma could be rather...romantically-challenged.

"EHH!?" Without Sakuno and her friends realising it, a bunch of busybodies...err, concerned students, who _accidentally_ overheard them, gawked at what Horio had said and turned to each other for another round of 'Sakuno's Made-up Love Life Special: Version 46'.

Our poor leading lady could only groan.

It was times like these that make hermit life attractive.

* * *

**Fast forward a couple of hours...**

* * *

The last class for the day was over. Finally. Excusing herself from Tomoka, Sakuno could no longer endure those meaningful looks and gossip and quickly made a beeline for the sweet heavenly school gate that was her escape. She was terrified out of her wits to face her scary-when-mad Obaa-chan. Not to mention the rest of the nosy Seigaku regulars if they even smelled a _whiff_ of this (not completely untrue) rumour. As long as she was careful, Sakuno thought determinedly, as long as she avoided them...

Not too difficult. They were all busy with practice at this time. So as long she doesn't go to their tennis practice she should be fine...until Obaa-chan got home.

_Gulp._

At least Ryoma remained indifferent to all the mindless rumours going on...although this fact _did_ make her heart twinge. Well, what did she expect? She never existed as a romantic prospect in his mind, and she never will. Sakuno sternly told herself that she should forget the cap-wearing tennis prodigy for the moment and just focus all her mental power on a quick getaway.

Too bad for her that escape did not come easily.

"Oh, look who's here!" she heard a girl giggle loudly.

She sighed despairingly when she saw the _too_ familiar purple hair and arrogant posture. Still in his Hyotei uniform, the tennis captain was with his ever faithful shadow Kabaji, who was carrying a bouquet of the freshest, most striking-looking mix of gerberas, tulips and roses. They stood at the entrance, blocking her escape route like an impossible wall. When Atobe's gaze zeroed in on her cringing body, he smirked lopsidedly, flipped his perfectly wavy hair, and advanced toward her.

She felt like running the other direction from the looming threat, but resisted that instinct. No, Atobe was _not_ looking at her like a hunter who'd just found his prey. No, she was _not_ a helpless rabbit...err, little girl. Just because they agreed yesterday that she would date him publicly to lower the suspicion of his parents about his unexpected interest in her didn't mean he had permission to ruin her sweet, peaceful school life. She will simply and politely tell him not to come visit her at her school anymore if he was going to behave like this or else the deal was off and he could get some other girl willing to suffer his overbearing self to stand in as his girlfriend._ So there!_

"Sakuno-chan." The girl broke off from her huffing internal rant when, at Atobe's regal nod, Kabaji offered her the bouquet. She had guessed it was intended for her, but she was still flattered. This was, she thought with a genuine smile, the first bunch of flowers she had ever received from a boy.

Even if it was completely unromantic and came second-hand from a narcissist like Atobe of all people through _another_ boy.

"Thank you," she said softly, taking a deep breath to take in the aroma.

Unfortunately, the pleasant smell couldn't distract her from what he did next. "Today," Atobe proclaimed, sweeping his hands up as if he was giving an important speech in a grand ceremony, "Ore-sama will be taking you on our very first date!"

Sakuno turned crimson all over when she felt curious stares on her and heard catcalls. Did he have to be louder than even Tomoka at her worse with that announcement? she wondered in exasperation. Surely he knew what 'embarrassing' meant!

As if to prove her wrong, Atobe grabbed her hand again and proceeded to drag her out of the school with the silent Kabaji in tow. "W-Where are we going?" she sputtered, blushing furiously from all the stares they were receiving.

"Don't worry, Ore-sama has it all planned out," Atobe said with his usual (over)confidence. "Ore-sama is bringing you somewhere nice! The weather in England today is perfect for an evening tea!"

He made it sound like it was as normal as the sun rising in the east. But the central processing unit of Sakuno's brain practically malfunctioned as she tried to understand exactly what Atobe was saying.

...weather...

...in England...

...

...

WHAAAT?!

"WHAAAT?!"

Sakuno flailed her other hand (_super_ difficult with the flowers) and frantically dug her feet into the ground in a desperate attempt to stop them from moving. When he felt the resistance, Atobe turned to her and raised an eyebrow.

"What is the matter?" He didn't let go but (_Thank you, God!_) he _did _stop.

"Wh-What's the matter?" Sakuno repeated, stunned. "T-The matter is that-that you actually intend to take me to _England_!"

He blinked. "And what _exactly_ is wrong with that?"

"You're taking me to a whole other_ continent_!"

He looked at her with (what he thought) great patience comparable to the great Buddha himself. "So?"

She gaped.

What kind of person _thinks _this way?

...

Wait, was she implying that Atobe Keigo was somehow normal?

Silly Sakuno.

He frowned, honestly perplexed by her stubborn refusal, then smirked widely before the stuttering Sakuno could formulate a million reasons for why he needed to have his head examined. Preferably in Borabora. "Ah, Ore-sama understands. You don't have a passport." Completely missing the point, he sighed, obviously disappointed. "Ore-sama, in his rare miscalculation, overlooked that aspect of the plan. Ah well. A minor mishap." He finally released her hand to fold his arms and tap his chin in careful deliberation. "Ore-sama supposes we can always have tea at that really high-class English tea shop in—"

"NO!" For the second time in their short relationship, an alarmed Sakuno found herself automatically rejecting Atobe's suggestions. It would be, she decided resignedly, a waste of time and spit to explain to the pampered heir of the great Atobe empire the nigh incomprehensible common-folk's concept of a_ simple_ date. "A-Atobe-san, why don't we just have ice-cream together?" she asked—no, _pleaded_.

"Hmm..." Atobe's brows furrowed in deep thought before, at last, nodding his noble head a couple of times. "That could work. Yes. In fact, it's a splendid idea!" He dramatically flourished an arm. "Ore-sama approves!"

But just when Sakuno thought she was in the clear, a long stretched black limousine that probably cost more than selling off all her body parts in the black market could possibly pay stopped in front of them. The chauffeur personally climbed out and opened the door for them.

By now, Sakuno was only surprised that no red carpet rolled out to greet them.

Not far away, Tomoka was just walking out of the school gate with Horio and his gang, arguing over whether or not Sakuno was _really_ in a love square between Ryoma, Atobe and Tezuka (for sanity's sake, don't ask). Good ol' Tomoka, faithful best friend that she was, fiercely rejected even the_ idea_ that Sakuno would ever stray from Samurai Junior's side.

To which a suddenly gaping Horio raised a hand to point past her.

To which direction Tomoka's jaw almost met the floor.

To which she proceeded to dial some numbers on her mobile.

To which the rumour mill was given even more fuel and reaching critical mass.

But I digress.

"Take us to the best dessert shop in the whole of Tokyo, and step on it," was Atobe's command to the chauffeur as he gently pulled a frozen Sakuno into one of the luxurious seats. "We'll drop Kabaji off on the way. After that, it will be just you and Ore-sama." Atobe flashed his trademark charming smirk at his pigtailed companion, who was inwardly crying tears of frustration and hoping against the conspiring forces of fate that this will all be over soon.

Not by a long shot, Sakuno. Not by a long shot.

**TBC**


	3. 3

_**Part 3: The First Date**_

* * *

Momoshiro blinked. Not quite comprehending what he was seeing. He blinked twice. Thrice. A fourth time.

Nope. It _still _didn't make a lick of sense.

"Hoi! Whatcha looking at, Momo?" Eiji bounded over to his friend at the bench, curiously peeking over Momo's shoulder to see what it was that made him look like he'd just been smacked with a racquet with all the force of a BURNING Taka.

Then Eiji blinked. Once. Twice.

"NYAAAAH!" He looked like he was about to hyperventilate. "WHAT DID I JUST SEE?!"

"What's going on?"

Their still wide-eyed heads turned to look at the Data King of Seigaku, who was just taking a short break from practice. Wordless, Momo could only flip his mobile over for Inui's viewing pleasure.

The screen revealed a hastily taken picture of Sakuno-chan...holding hands...with _Atobe Keigo_.

And it looked like he was leading her into the limousine in the background.

To _God_ knows where doing who knows _what_?

It was difficult to gauge Inui's expression from behind his glinting glasses, but suddenly he pulled his notebook from out of seemingly nowhere and began furiously scribbling.

Finally, Eiji broke the silence.

"H-How are we going to break it to our poor ochibi!?" he cried, near tears.

"Break what?"

That was Fuji, looking as serene as ever and wondering what molehill their overactive imaginations were stirring up now.

Momo heaved a sigh. "I heard the rumours. But I didn't want to believe it. I mean, come on, _Tezuka_ harbouring a secret crush on Sakuno-chan?! But it seems..." he trailed off, raising a clenched fist. "I can't believe it myself. But it's happened." His face set in a grim line. "Sakuno-chan finally got tired of waiting for Echizen to make a move."

The acrobat pulled at his crimson hair. "Nyah! Ochibi! Look at what you've done!"

Scribble. Scribble. Scribble.

"Ah..." Fuji nodded as it dawned on him what his three senseless friends were trying to tell him in their 'unique' ways. "So it's about Sakuno-chan dating Atobe Keigo?"

"You say it like it's not a bad thing!" Momo wailed.

Fuji was, of course, amused. "Why is it a bad thing?"

Momo looked at the self-admitted sadist as if this should be as plain as day. "Because, of all the people she could have picked, our gentle kouhai is dating _Atobe_. _Keigo_. A-t-o-b-e K-e-i-g-o."

"Momo, I know how to spell his name."

"That's not the point, Fuji! You know what an arrogant creep he is!" A look of horror came over his face when a terrible thought hit him square in the forehead. "That's right! What if she was _forced _into dating him?!"

Inui calculated the possibility in his head and then nodded his agreement. "From the data available, the chance that Atobe Keigo had dragged her into a date despite her protest is 69.75 percent."

Eiji's brain was suddenly flooded with images of sweet Sakuno-chan dressed in angelic white, tied up and crying as a fork-tongued Atobe devil laughed cruelly on a throne in the background. "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he cried dramatically, near tears again.

"That's right." Momo looked determined as he squared his shoulders. "Sakuno-chan is probably in big trouble now in the clutches of Hyotei's wannabe emperor! And it's up to _us _to save her!"

"Nyah, that's right!" The acrobat nodded with fire lighting his eyes. "Let's go save Sakuno-chan from the Atobe devil! Nyah!"

"And Echizen better get his dense butt over there too!"

"Nyah! If ochibi comes sweeping in like a Prince in Shining Armour to save her, Sakuno-chan will definitely fall in love all over again!"

Scribble. Scribble. Scribble.

"Hissss. Why is it so loud over here?"

The annoyed voice belonged, of course, to Kaidoh, who was wiping his sweating face with a towel.

Eiji turned to bounce over to him, pumping up a fist. "We're going to save Sakuno-chan, nyah! Join us, Kaidoh!"

Their bandana-wearing teammate narrowed his eyes.

"...Did you people forget training?" was his deadpan.

Silence.

...

So the bunch of monkeys_ did _forget.

Typical.

* * *

**After _much _persuasion...**

* * *

"It's Atobe-sama! Atobe-sama's here..."

Sakuno tried not look as uncomfortable as she felt. The manager of the fancy dessert shop himself had personally led them to their seat near a lovely street corner window reserved for VIPs only. Naturally, she thought dryly, Atobe-san fit the bill.

The VIP in question sat opposite her, reading his menu as if no one was whispering about him behind his back. After a cursory glance, he set his menu aside. "So what would you like to have, Sakuno-chan?"

She stared longingly at the list of desserts on her menu—the names all so delicious to read that her mouth watered—and gave a sad sigh. "T-There are some I'd like to try. B-But..."

Atobe raised an elegant eyebrow encouragingly.

"But they're all so expensive!" she finally blurted out, face pink. "I tried to tell you, Atobe-san. Even the pure spring water here is out of my budget!" No, seriously. "I-I think I should just—"

"Is that all?" Atobe cut in, looking terribly amused at her petty worries. He raised a hand and snapped his fingers. Immediately, a waiter came rushing to serve them. Sakuno's jaw fell open when he ordered the waiter to send to their table a plate of _every_ dessert they had available—including today's special.

She at once tried to protest at what was in her eyes yet another example of his pointless extravagance, but Atobe would have none of it.

"Sakuno-chan," he said, voice firm, "you are Ore-sama's girlfriend now. That gives Ore-sama the right to spoil you. _So_," he smirked as he rested his chin on a raised open palm, "let Ore-sama spoil you."

The flushing of her cheeks she understood. She was a blush machine. But there was something inside her chest that felt rather warm. She reasoned it had to be the temperature of the room. That's right, she thought as she tried to look anywhere but his face. Never mind the air-conditioning. The heat was getting to her.

Not far from the couple, six pair of eyes were observing them. "I don't know, Momo," muttered the waiter with the covered shaved hair. "It doesn't _look_ like she needs saving."

"What are you talking about, Oishi?!" Momo snapped as he tugged at his tight bowtie. "Can't you see how uncomfortable she is?! Look at how she's blushing!"

Err...Momo, I don't think that blush means what you think it means, Oishi wanted to say, but ended up only sighing. He prayed to any deity willing to listen that his damage control ability honed from years of being the team's mother hen were still sharp. That was the main reason why he'd agreed to suffer Tezuka's wrath and ditch practice, after all.

Inui and Fuji were pretending to take down orders a few tables away, with the tables being Eiji's and Kaidoh's. Only Taka (who was no longer a regular but a dedicated sushi chef in training) and Ryoma (who had smartly hightailed it yelling "Made made dane!" before Momo could catch him in a headlock) were spared from 'Operation Rescue Sakuno-chan from Devil Atobe'.

It was simple at first. According to Momo's gold mine of information (Tomoka innocently doesn't know what he means if he points in her direction), Hyotei's tennis captain had loudly proclaimed something about the most high-class dessert shop in Tokyo. _But_ (slyly adds codename Deep Throat) Sakuno-chan's thrifty nature probably ensured that Atobe would at least be persuaded to tone down the excessiveness by a peg or two. So Momo had guessed with his 'genius deductive skills' that they were, instead, heading to the best dessert shop in the _surrounding area_. With the help of Inui's calculations, the concerned regulars were going to stalk...err, pass by that shop to see if the Mismatched Couple of The Century were there.

And then the boys caught a lucky break. The distracted manager, thinking they were the new employees (minus Eiji, who had been away ogling the cupcakes, and Kaidoh, who looked _way_ too scary to have even _passed_ the interviews) and currently severely understaffed, threw some waiter outfits at them and ordered them to quickly serve 'the VIPs over there'.

Which just happened to be where their targets were.

In the present time, Momo was distracted from his spying when he heard someone call for him from behind the swinging doors. Once inside, he gaped at the amount of desserts placed on the waiting line of plates when he was helpfully informed that these were ALL for Atobe-sama (that rich bastard). Then poor Momo was left all alone with the heap. Impatient to go back outside and confident of his superior upper-body strength, Momo decided to pile up the solid desserts on top of one another on the trolley to save time.

Never mind that his 'genius deductive skills' could have made him ask the other waiters for help.

Meanwhile, Atobe excused himself for the washroom. Which left Sakuno wide open. As soon as the villain was no longer visible, Eiji launched himself like a catapulted boulder at the girl.

"Sakuno-chan!"

He weighted like a boulder, too. When Sakura found herself attacked by the redhead, she nearly lost her balance. "Sakuno-chan," he cried, "are you okay? He didn't hurt you or anything, nyah?"

"I-I'm fine, Eiji-sempai." Though not for long if he kept squeezing her lungs like that.

"Hi, Sakuno-chan." Fuji waved at her cheerfully, completely missing the hearts in the eyes of the new sixty-year-old Fuji-fangirl a table behind him, while Inui wrote down his observations instead of taking down the orders of an irritated-looking gentleman. Only Kaidoh was sitting grimly at a table, pretending he wasn't friends with these bunch of loonies.

"Don't forget me!" A few tables away, Momo's head popped out from behind the mini-mountain of desserts laden on the trolley he was carefully pushing past a few round-eyed customers.

"W-What is everyone doing here?" Sakuno asked when she realised, to her dismay, that her sempais were masquerading as waiters.

"We're rescuing you from the devil!" the acrobat happily replied.

She blinked.

Devil?

Did he mean Atobe-san?

"_What_ is going on here?!" Speaking of the devil. A scowling Atobe couldn't believe that, not even a minute gone, Seigaku regulars had already come to bother his date.

"We're protecting our kouhai from the forces of evil!" Momo yelled with a righteous pose, which made practically every customer in the shop swivel their heads to watch this live drama with keen interest.

Atobe narrowed his eyes to slits. "Ore-sama has no idea what drugs you are on, but it seems quite powerful."

"HEY!"

Oishi quickly spoke up. "What he _means _is..." He gave a placating pat on Momo's shoulder, who was itching for a kick to the spoiled diva's backside. "Atobe-san, did you forcibly take Sakuno-chan with you? Because that would make it kidnapping, and that would be bad."

Atobe snorted at the absurd suggestion, eyeing them all like they were escapees from a mental institution. "As if Ore-sama needs to lower himself to such lows. Girls fall over Ore-sama like bees to honey_ all_ the time!" He glared at Eiji—more specifically, where the annoying cretin was putting his hands. "You! Ore-sama demands you release his date!"

Eiji only pulled her closer. "Make me!"

The two exchanged electrical discharges through their challenging eyes. It wouldn't be surprising if they next demanded a tennis match to settle this.

Sakuno couldn't take it anymore. "ENOUGH!" she burst out, squirming out of the shocked acrobat's grasp. Now was the moment of truth...err, lie. She backed away from Eiji and looked at each of her sempais with hard eyes. _Stick to the truth as much as possible_, she told herself. _You're a lousy liar otherwise_.

"Eiji-sempai...everyone...I went with Atobe-san willingly. W-We're _really_ dating." Right now anyway.

"EHHHHHH!?" The Seigaku boys exclaimed as one. And then even _more_ chaos ensued.

"How—"

"I mean, we never noticed—"

"Or maybe we were too busy—"

"What about Echizen?!"

Scribble. Scribble. Scribble.

Amidst the complete bedlam, Atobe smirked, anger forgotten with Sakuno's unexpected confirmation of their relationship. He deliberately brushed past a stunned Eiji, who was being shaken back to reality by his worried doubles partner, and sauntered over to his _girlfriend_.

Kaidoh crossed his arms and muttered under his breath, "This was a stupid idea in the first place."

"_Excuse me_." Momo turned to him angrily. "This was MY idea!"

"No surprise."

"Look, you hissing wonder, I don't see you coming up with genius plans!"

"That's because I'm not a nosy monkey who overreacts."

"Why you—"

In his 'excitement', Momo's elbow accidentally knocked into the handle of the trolley he had been wheeling. As he pointed his index finger at Kaidoh, the trolley began to roll by itself. All eyes turned, collective breaths held, as it rolled past a row of tables, killed a helpless worker ant, and caused a random waiter to jump over a counter until it slowly came to a halt near Sakuno's seat.

Everyone exhaled in relief.

Unfortunately, the sudden change in increased air circulation may have caused a shift in the delicate balance of the already unstable trays (a 61.5 percent chance, Inui scribbled). Thus, everyone watched, their faces a Frankenstein mixture of horror and fascination, as the leaning tower of desserts began falling off the trolley as if in slow motion.

And Sakuno was right under it.

Fuji's eyes actually snapped open in panic. "Sakuno-chan! Watch out!"

But it was too late.

SPLAAAAT!

When she finally dared to open her eyes, Sakuno was surprised to find well-defined arms embracing her shoulders tightly and a muscled body leaning over to cover hers.

To her disbelief, she realised it was_ Atobe_. He had instinctively thrown himself at her, protecting her from the worst of the mess as evidenced by his cream-laden uniform and the tousled strands of his usually perfect locks.

The incident must have addled her wits. Yes, one of the plates must have dropped on her unaware head and dislodged the rational part of her cerebral cortex from active engagement. Because for that one split moment, when she looked up in a daze at Atobe's determined face, she was surprised to find herself thinking that, despite the strawberry whipped cream sliding off the side of his bangs and the upside-down plate on his head, he looked rather...

...dashing.

There was complete and utter silence, in which everyone in the shop tried to absorb this shocking scene as fast as their brain cells could possibly allow.

Eiji was the first to recover.

"NYAAH! Sakuno-chan, are you all right?!" He ran over to her, which prompted the rest to follow suit.

* * *

**In the aftermath...**

* * *

The manager was apologetic. In fact, he was practically scrapping the ground with his bowing. Although Sakuno had kindly pointed out that it was actually the Seigaku regulars who should hold the most blame, he was absolutely adamant that their fine establishment was at fault for the whole dreadful affair. So, to make up for it, none of them had to pay a thing for the food or damages.

So, would you pretty please not sue, Atobe-sama's sweet kind-hearted girlfriend?

She assured him they would most certainly_ not_ sue.

Sakuno was very,_ very_ mad at her sempai-tachi. In a rare temper, she sent the almighty Seigaku tennis team to their knees when she threatened to refuse them her free meals and pastries for a whole month. She wasn't even allowing herself to be moved by Eiji-sempai's pleading puppy-dog expression. Their _disgraceful_ behaviour had caused so much trouble for everyone, especially Atobe-san and manager-san, that they needed to learn from this.

If they wanted to eat her food _ever_ again then—No. More. Stalking.

Like the manager, they bowed their heads submissively to her whims. They were lucky, they knew, that she had the grace not to threaten to sic Ryuuzaki-sensei on them.

Once she was convinced that her sempais had really left the place with their tails between their legs (softening a little when Eiji-sempai ran back, tearfully apologising again and saying that he was only worried for her so please don't be mad anymore before running after the rest of the gang), she re-entered the dessert shop.

Atobe had left to wash his hair and change in the washroom. She saw him now sitting at a corner, drying his damp hair with a towel supplied by the manager. She approached him slowly, shy and unsure. His head perked, noticing her immediately.

"I-I'm sorry, Atobe-san," she began softly. "I apologise on behalf of my sempai-tachi, too. They didn't mean any harm. But sometimes..." she sighed "...they can be worse than overprotective big brothers."

He waved a hand dismissively. "It is fine. Ore-sama finds no harm done...except to his most glorious hair." He sniffed, still miffed about _that_ grave offence.

"A-Also..." She looked down, blushing so hotly she could actually feel the heat on her cheeks. "T-Thank you for helping me back there."

"But of course!" Atobe smirked, flipping his now limp hair (which, in his humble opinion, did little to lessen the dramatic impact) and lifting his chin proudly. "Ore-sama is the perfect boyfriend, and since Sakuno-chan is his girlfriend, she is under Ore-sama's _complete_ protection! Be careful though," he winked, "because Ore-sama knows his charms are _so_ irresistible that Sakuno-chan will surely fall for him if she isn't careful!"

Sakuno felt her eye twitch.

You know what? Forget what she thought earlier. Dashing? She must have been delusional! Rest assured, there was no way in the nine levels of hell would she _ever_ allow herself to fall in love with this-this _insufferable_ drama king!

Take that to the bank, Atobe Keigo!

**TBC**


	4. 4

**A/N: **_Thanks everyone for the encouraging feedbacks, including corrections, favs and alerts! _

* * *

_**Part 4: A Talk with Obaa-chan**_

* * *

As Sakuno had feared, her Obaa-chan had caught wind of the gossip about her. She must have, for what other reason could the old woman have for standing guard on the steps of her house, arms crossed and eyes flashing like an angry bulldog.

She just didn't think it'd be so soon.

"Sakuno-chan?"

She blinked at the voice of her date. After the chauffeur had opened the door for her to climb out, she had found herself facing Atobe, who had announced with a swagger that he intended to accompany her to her front door. After all, was this not the custom of teenage dates?

She very politely declined to respond that teenage dates usually did not involve luxury cars, brotherly stalkers, hapless managers, and dangerous falling desserts all in one evening.

And then she caught sight of her Obaa-chan.

Her mental alarm bells were ringing so loudly that she was surprised Atobe couldn't hear them. She gulped and considered all her retreating options.

Not good. Not good _at all_.

"Umm, Atobe-san," she began as she tried to avoid looking at her waiting grandmother, "it might not be a good idea for you to walk me to the door. N-Not that I'm not flattered by your _extremely_ kind consideration," she quickly added when he narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "b-but I'm a big girl and I won't get lost so close to home so...no, wait!"

Too late, he cast a sidelong look in the direction she was sneaking not so secretive nerve-wracking glances. "Ah, Ore-sama sees now," he smirked with a knowing look at the dragon lady, "you're nervous about Ore-sama meeting your grandmother."

Obviously, she thought with some annoyance. Who knew what kind of disaster was waiting to happen with two meteors colliding?

But Atobe showed no fear. Even when Sakuno casually mentioned the black belt her Obaa-chan had earned years ago and her, ahem, modest collection of _razor-sharp_ katanas. In fact, deciding to tread where no sane tennis regular would dare to tread, he grabbed Sakuno's hand and started pulling her along. "Let's go then."

Sakuno sputtered, "T-To where?!" _Don't tell me this crazy narcissist actually wants to—_

"Ore-sama is walking you to the front door," he repeated again, eyes resolute, "and if we see your grandmother, then all the better. It is only right to pay respects to her as Ore-sama is Sakuno-chan's boyfriend."

But he was not. Not really, she wanted to remind him even as her cheeks reddened. And that was the problem. If the truth came out, her overprotective Obaa-chan would probably want to literally spill his guts on the floor in a horrible bloodbath simply because Sumire would think he was using her selfishly. Which, Sakuno had to admit, wasn't so far from the truth.

But her grandmother had not seen the Atobe she had seen that evening. The sad but proud bearing. The unexpectedly humble plea. The bow of his head. In fact, it was all so amazing to describe in her head that Sakuno wouldn't be surprised that, were she to speak of it, people would conclude that it was a clever Atobe impersonator who had duped her hook, line and sinker, and the_ real_ one had been in England all along having a manicure done on one hand and an Earl Grey in the other while cackling evilly at her expense.

"Good evening, Ryuuzaki-sensei."

Sakuno blinked when, without her realising it, they had already reached her Obaa-chan. Atobe was surprisingly polite and gave a courteous bow, although a trace of his haughtiness was still present in his gait.

Sumire did not look impressed.

"Atobe," she nodded her acknowledgement. Then she turned her scary eyes on her granddaughter, who felt the strong urge to hide behind the tall boy beside her. "Sakuno, we need to have a _talk_. Atobe, please join us."

Why, Sakuno thought gloomily, did it feel like they were about to get the tongue-lashing of a lifetime? But she felt an unexpected measure of comfort when the hand holding hers gently squeezed. Atobe's face had become unreadable but she realised, with a small smile, that he was encouraging her.

Sumire led them into the lounge. Atobe's sharp gaze immediately took notice of the lone photograph of a lovely woman who could easily have been mistaken for Sakuno's older sister in a simple frame of silver ivies. It sat innocently on an otherwise empty ledge to the left from where he chose to sit. Sakuno made to sit as well until her grandmother called her name. "Sakuno-chan," Ryuuzaki-sensei smiled at the her, "go and make tea for us."

In other words, her Obaa-chan wanted some 'alone time' to interrogate her date. Sakuno cast an anxious glance at Atobe, who smiled cockily and nodded. Reassured, she excused herself and left to make the tea.

If Sumire noticed their silent communication, she made no sign.

After ensuring Sakuno was safely out of earshot, the older Ryuuzaki sat facing the young man with her prized katana collection proudly displayed on the wall behind her. When she raised her head to meet his eyes, Atobe unconsciously straightened his back. "So," Sumire began, eyes steely despite her old age, "care to tell me _all_ about your sudden interest with my granddaughter?"

He blinked at the implication. She doesn't know, he realised. Sakuno probably hid their agreement from her. He speculated on some of the reasons, then decided it didn't matter. He didn't mind revealing the truth of their deception to her but if Sakuno had avoided it... "If Sakuno-chan hasn't told you yet," he said carefully, "then it is not Ore-sama's place to do so."

Sumire narrowed her eyes. He resisted the nearly overwhelming urge to fidget like a guilty schoolboy caught with his hand in the cookie jar under her hard gaze. How fortunate that his self-control was legendary!

At last, she closed her eyes and crossed her arms. "Very well," she conceded, "then I'll cut to the chase." She opened her eyes to drill holes into his, grudgingly feeling some respect when the purple-haired boy sitting opposite her met her gaze unwaveringly."If you're simply using her for fun, then stop right now," she warned. "Sakuno isn't like whatever bimbo you've dated." He knew that, Atobe thought rather smugly. That was why his _impeccable_ taste had specifically chosen her. "She's a sweet, gentle, old-fashioned girl who has barely even _looked _at boys. And she's suffered enough losses in her life that if I find out you _ever_ mistreated her or break her heart, I would not hesitate to break your_ legs_. Got it?"

Was it his fertile imagination, a pale Atobe wondered uneasily, or did the katanas behind her actually_ glint _at her threat? Still, his straight posture did not falter. "O-Ore-sama understands."

"Good."

There was, for a while, a tension-filled silence between them as they waited for Sakuno to return. Atobe broke it first when he let his curiosity get the better of him. "The losses that you mentioned...it has something to do with your status as her closest living relative?"

Ryuuzaki-sensei raised an eyebrow. "She didn't tell you?"

"This is only our first date and Ore-sama knows only what is common knowledge." He looked sideways to his left, the silver frame catching his eyes again. "But Ore-sama has noticed she does not talk about her family—or herself—much. And Ore-sama thought it intrusive to check her private records."

_So he pays attention to Sakuno_, Sumire thought approvingly. "I will be honest with you, Atobe. Sakuno's childhood and family life has been rather harsh. The worst was when my—my daughter passed away." Her eyes clouded at the painful memory, which made her overlook the sudden stiffening of his body. "Her lost took a toll on Sakuno. My granddaughter was so young and didn't have anyone to turn to but me back then. It took some time for her to truly smile again but...it's still a touchy subject in this household." She paused, allowing her guest to silently absorb her words before continuing. "That's why," her cold glare may as well have turned him into an (attractive!) human popsicle, "if your intentions are _anything_ less than honourable, I will make you rue the day you ever set eyes on my precious granddaughter._ Do you understand_?"

He surprised even himself when he responded with a confident smirk, "Sakuno-chan is Ore-sama's girlfriend, and Ore-sama makes the best boyfriend in the world in all ways. While she is under his care, he will definitely make her happy."

Sumire smirked back. Such big words. He had better back them up!

"O-Obaa-chan!"

Sakura had overheard the last exchange (more like death threat) between them and she'd nearly dropped the tray she was carrying out of embarrassment. "Don't be so hard on Atobe-san, Obaa-chan! He's our guest," she scolded softly as she placed the tray on the table and started serving their tea.

Sumire smiled teasingly. "Oh my, siding with a boy over your own grandmother now?"

"I-It's not like that!" A flushing Sakuno looked cute, almost dropping the cups she was holding. Atobe smirked from behind the tea cup he received from Sakuno. Taking a sip as the pigtailed girl made her protest known to her Obaa-chan, he noted that Sakuno-chan made surprisingly good green tea. The smirk faded when he glanced at the wall clock.

It was time to go.

His mother was waiting.

* * *

**Thereafter...**

* * *

After the Hyotei King left (but not before leaning in to give a blushing Sakuno a goodbye kiss to the forehead, claiming it was 'part of the traditional teenage dating ritual' and recklessly ignoring the narrowed eyes of a certain katana collector), it was Sakuno's turn to suffer 'the talk'. Sitting down opposite her grandmother at the dining table, she drew a deep breath and decided to be honest with the older woman because, if she couldn't trust her Obaa-chan, then who _could_ she trust?

"I see. So _that's_ it." Understanding now dawned in Sumire's eyes, along with reluctant sympathy for the pompous Atobe. "So that's why you're stomaching his presence."

"H-He's not _that_ bad." Sakuno was quick to defend him, which made her Obaa-chan raise an eyebrow. "He said he'd treat me like a real girlfriend for the duration, so that's why he takes me on dates and wanted to pay his respects to you."

Weird boy, Sumire thought. Other males with their survival instincts still intact would have skipped the last part if they could help it, real relationship or not. "Well, as long as you know what you're getting into, I guess I can play along. At least I made sure the rascal isn't going to do anything I wouldn't approve." The latter sentence was spoken with a sneer of brutal intent which would have sent shivers down Sakuno's spine had Sumire not been her grandmother. "Still, it's surprising to see you spend time with a boy who _isn't _a Seigaku tennis member. Especially when it isn't Echizen."

Sakuno gasped. "Wh-What?"

"Come now," said the senior Ryuuzaki as she calmly drank her tea, "surely you didn't think I would fail to notice?"

The pigtailed girl's blush could have put Eiji's hair to shame. "I-It was _that_ obvious, huh?"

"Sakuno," Sumire said, smiling a grandmotherly smile, "I knew you liked young Echizen. I'm sorry, but I think _anyone _could tell that just from your face." Unfortunately, one had to be blind and functionally brain-dead _not _to see the obvious Olympic-sized torch the poor girl carried for the tennis-obsessed Ryoma. "Do you still feel the same way?"

"I-I...don't know," Sakuno admitted. "I try not to think about it. I thought I'd move on slowly but surely. He has his own road to walk on now, and I have mine." That he didn't bother to stop the date with the rest of the Seigaku regulars rubbed that sad fact in her face.

"And now you got yourself saddled with another boy who is _at least_ as difficult." Sumire let out a bark of laughter while the pigtailed girl turned pink. "I don't envy your luck with men, Sakuno. Although, I must say," she glanced furtively at Sakuno, "you've been surprisingly defensive over Atobe."

"O-Oh, have I?" Sakuno looked down and shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know. It's just...he has his good points...and his bad points, too." To Sumire's surprise, her granddaughter's eyes suddenly blazed with unusual irritation. "He's loud and obnoxious and his ego seems to have no limit," she grumbled. "He doesn't listen to me at all, and he treats money like it falls like free manna from heaven, and he lives in a world that seems so different from my own that it's surprising we have anything in common at all!" Cheeks flushing red at her outburst, Sakuno quickly took a sip of tea to hide her face.

Ryuuzaki-sensei's perceptive eyes softened. Experience had taught her the early signs of subtle attraction, and there was definitely something that inexplicably drew her Sakuno to that human mass of convoluted ego. While she hoped it was simply a case of strong sympathy, Sumire wouldn't stand in the way—refused to make the same mistake twice—if this was what Sakuno chose for herself. So Atobe Keigo had better keep his promise, she mused as she stretched an arm out to fondly pat her granddaughter's head. Otherwise, his legs really _were_ going to be buried separately from the rest of his horribly mangled corpse.

The garden could always use some good fertilisers after all.

* * *

**Later that evening...**

* * *

Tomoka couldn't believe it. She'd heard the confirmation from the dejected Seigaku tennis members (Eiji couldn't even summon up a 'nyah' on their return to tennis practice, and it certainly didn't get any better when their captain's first words on seeing them was '100 laps. _Now_'). Still, her stubborn brain clung to the iron-clad conviction that Sakuno would never_ ever_ join the dark side of the force and actually decide to date Emperor Overkill.

It was too bad (for Tomoka) that Sakuno did not own a mobile. Or else poor Ryuuzaki would have been subjected to a ten-hour grilling about her love life. As it was, Tomoka could only wait until she was sure her friend was home (she seriously needed to start on her exciting research on fungus growing instead of playing the waiting game with her mobile, but you understand why the latter was _way_ more appealing, right?) before scrambling to call Sa-chan at the precise strike of seven.

"H-Hello?"

"Sa-chan, how_ could_ you?" she promptly wailed.

"E-Eh?"

"I thought we were bestest best friends forever and always pinkie swear! But _now_ I find out you've been keeping secrets from me! How come I'm the _last_ to know you ditched me after class for Atobe I'm-King-of-the-World Keigo?!" The guilt trip _always_ worked, trust Tomoka on this.

"S-Sorry about that, Tomo-chan. It was just that it was...an unexpected date." Tomoka didn't know the _half _of it.

At this, the bubbly girl calmed down. "Well...I'll forgive you 'cause we're BFFs." She paused before slyly asking, "_So_...how did it go?"

"Err, umm...not too bad." Which in Sakuno language meant 'it was an epic disaster of Titanic proportions and ended just as well'.

"..._That's it_?"

"Well...we just ordered some desserts (which was then completely ruined) and he took me home (and was savagely skewered on a metaphorical katana) and that's it."

"How boring!" Tomoka snorted at her friend's sanitised cliff-note version of the date. "Seriously, what on earth do you _see_ in that guy?"

"He's not so bad..." Sakuno trailed off, still surprised at how much she meant it. Sure, his flaws were _blindingly_ obvious to everyone except himself. But sometimes (just sometimes, mind you) he could be sweet. In his own eccentric Atobe way. "A-Anyway, he'll be taking me on a second date." Whether she liked it or not.

Tomoka opened her mouth, about to ask her friend about Echizen, but stopped herself. If Sakuno wanted the King of Egos (why was a mystery she would later morosely ponder over a tub of chocolate ice-cream), then how could she be less of a best friend and not support her? Even_ if_ Tomoka personally thought the conniving snob must have somehow _brainwashed_ Sa-chan in a secret underground laboratory to get her to agree to date him. In the end, Tomoka sighed reluctantly. "Well, as long as it really _is _your choice..."

"Y-Yes, it is." Kind of.

"One question still bothers me though..."

"What is it?"

"Well, if the rumours about you and Atobe are right then...is it also true that Tezuka once secretly tried to elope with you but Ryuuzaki-sensei threatened to cut off his you-know-what if he ever tried that so you broke up with him in order to let him preserve his ability to breed?"

"..."

**TBC**


	5. 5

_**Part 5: Fever**_

* * *

Sakuno thought the first day of Seigaku's magpies gossiping about her 'romantic relationships' was bad enough, and she was determined not to throw more firewood at the roaring flames of rumours which had swept from class to class like a deadly epidemic. Because really, she did _not_ need that kind of complication in her life. She was a shy girl who disliked the spotlight, so why was this happening to _her_?

Oh yeah, because Atobe Keigo was uncooperative.

Case in point. The very next day after the disastrous first date, she couldn't even take in the sweet fresh morning air when she opened the front door of her house, only to find (to her unpleasant surprise) Hyotei's 'supreme' King himself. He smirked his thousand-megawatt smirk and, grabbing one of her hands, claimed it was 'the duty of a boyfriend to take his girlfriend to school'.

And before she could even stammer about how this was a _baaaaaaaaaaaaad_ idea (and ask who introduced this 'duty' into the sacred institution of dating anyway), he had already pulled her along to the waiting limousine.

Obaa-chan, she cried a river of tears inwardly, why did you have to leave first?

Alas, she was in the enviable position of being stuck in a luxurious ride with the great 'King' of Hyotei, who promptly began to describe the _wonderful_ things they would be doing together on their second date. As if her body was on autopilot, she dimly heard something about a concert...classical music...a ticket costing her entire year's worth of allowance...being the second cousin twice removed to Yo-Yo Ma. Her brain was only saved from being turned into a complete pile of mush when her Prince Charming suddenly mentioned something about taking her home as well.

To which she immediately protested "NO!" and stuttered frantically about some afterschool activity she _really_ needed to do but thank you anyway. His eyes narrowed but he seemed to buy it, for which Sakuno could only be eternally grateful.

When the ride from hell was finally over, she practically leaped out of the vehicle as soon as the door opened. She paused to inhale and exhale in relief, which gave Atobe the time to stride lazily to her side. At this point, she'd thought her troubles were temporarily over.

That is, until he leaned down to kiss her cheek.

At the front gate.

In front of approximately two hundred witnesses with apparently nothing productive to do.

From behind the stunned Sakuno there were loud whispers, gasps, pointed fingers and mobiles taking photos, static or moving, to upload to YouTube and Facebook later. Thinking on this later, the pigtailed girl would find herself so mortified that she briefly considered moving somewhere far, _far_ away where no one could recognise her. The North Pole sounded good. Maybe she'd change her name too, just in case.

But as if he was born to be worshipped like a celebrity (and she wouldn't be surprised if the self-obsessed diva wannabe honestly _believed_ this), the unruffled Atobe simply smirked and said "See you on our next date, Sakuno-chan" before cruelly abandoning the still frozen Sakuno to her fate and climbing into his limousine to Hyotei.

Whereas the poor girl was so dumbstruck and embarrassed that she could only stand rooted to the spot as she listened helplessly to the noisy crowd staring at her.

"See? I told you it has to be Atobe!"

"Yes! I win the bet!"

"How do you know that's who she _really_ likes? He may just be the rebound. It's Echizen that she truly loves!"

"Nah. Today proves that Echizen is ancient history..."

Wait, was that a teacher? Sakuno blinked disbelievingly, her ears recognising her history teacher's voice. Were even the _teachers _in on this collective insanity?

"I wonder if Tezuka knows..."

"Wasn't their relationship over, like, a lifetime ago?"

"Well, _I_ heard that..."

For the most part, all the dazed Sakuno ended up hearing was a bunch of gibberish bla-bla-bladi-blada. But there was one thing the conscious part of her brain was absolutely certain: the rumours had indeed grown to epic proportions and the flames had no intention of dying down just yet. In fact, that darned Atobe had just carelessly thrown a truck full of fodder at the fire without so much as a backward glance!

That did it. She was going to claim sick leave tomorrow.

* * *

**The next day...**

* * *

You know she was only exaggerating about actually wanting sick leave, right? Because she didn't _really _mean she wanted to be sick. Just maybe skip school until the end of time. Or until the rumours disappeared to the bottomless pit from whence it came. Whichever option was fine, she wasn't picky.

But apparently, of all the wishes the heavens above could have granted her, they chose the most whimsical of all, for she was now hit by a high fever. It was the rain last afternoon, she knew. She had forgotten to bring her umbrella despite the early weather report thanks to a certain vainglorious tennis captain, and she hadn't wanted to bother Tomo-chan with the latter's too-small umbrella, especially after the girl selflessly appointed herself Sakuno's personal bodyguard. For the whole day, schoolmates (especially the girls) who were barely aware of Sakuno's existence before suddenly ambushed her in hallways and shook her shoulders until she was seeing stars, demanding more juicy information. Seriously, the pigtailed girl had never felt so 'popular' in her life with the endless speculations on her 'romantic conquests'. They only backed off after a fire-breathing Tomoka threatened to tear their skinny legs off with a nail-studded baseball bat. And if _she_ was bad, then may God have mercy on the unsuspecting fools who would suffer the wrath of the Seigaku regulars in defence of their precious kouhai's maiden honour. Despite questioning Tomo-chan's methods, however, Sakuno felt like such a burden to her best friend, so she had waited until the girl had left first before running all the way home with her schoolbag on her head.

Then this morning she'd awakened to the mother of all headaches and an already flushed face. Obaa-chan immediately noticed and ordered her to bed. It was a fever, Sumire had announced after taking the thermometer out from Sakuno's mouth, and kindly informed the wide-eyed Atobe to take a hike before slamming the door in his face when he came to pick her granddaughter up. So here young Ryuuzaki was, stuck in bed and wondering at her horrible, _horrible_ luck.

_Ah well_, Sakuno finally thought with a relaxed smile, _look at the bright side_. At least she would have a day of relative peace and quiet. It wasn't so bad. _And_, as icing on the cake, she'd be free from the person who caused all this mess in the first place.

Err...Sakuno-chan, did you forget about your horrible luck?

"Sakuno-chan!"

It was after a short afternoon nap that her ears were rudely assaulted by that dreadfully familiar voice. It was obviously Atobe. After he had received news of her falling ill, he'd been so besieged with worry that his usually faultless concentration was disturbed even in his Greek class. As soon as the last period was over, the limousine was already up and running for Sakuno's house. Ryuuzaki-sensei, who'd taken some time off to watch over Sakuno, reluctantly permitted him to see her granddaughter on the condition that he had to be on his best behaviour (_since when has Ore-sama's behaviour EVER not been at its best? _he wanted to demand but wisely stayed silent when the katana collection behind her glinted dangerously).

So it was that Atobe entered her room and strolled over to her bedside; Kabaji following close behind with arms full of baskets of fruits, flowers and whatever else his friend came up with. "Ore-sama, in his bountiful concern, decided to personally come visit Sakuno-chan to cheer you up with his magnanimous presence!" Atobe announced with all the flair of a daytime soap opera actress.

Sakuno slowly sat up and, despite her resentment at this drama king, had to smile. He was offering her get-well flowers (although five bunches of them weren't necessary, really), a basket full of the freshest apples in the whole of Tokyo, and medicine that would either make her better in no time or he'd have the license of the incompetent doctor revoked.

Just as she was about to sigh and ask him to spare the long-suffering doctor, he suddenly reached out a hand to feel her forehead. If she wasn't already warm, the heat on her face could have toasted bread. "Poor Sakuno-chan," he said, voice unexpectedly gentle, "Tezuka and his followers should take better care of their kouhai." And then he pulled up the chair from her desk to sit beside her bed, looking for all the world like he_ wasn't_ aware of how _pink _everything was—from the bed sheets, the curtains, the wardrobe, right down to the fluffy Hello Kitty slippers peeking out from under her bed. Kabaji, meanwhile, deposited all the gifts on and around her desk and bedside before standing unmoving like a giant statue in a corner.

Sakuno was torn between being very irritated at Atobe's slight at her sempais and touched at his concern. He didn't _have_ to do this, she knew. He could have just dumped the flowers and hightailed it out of there. But he didn't. So she didn't protest when he rearranged the position of her pillow 'for maximum comfort' and, with unexpected consideration, offered to peel and slice the apples for her.

"Are you certain it is only a fever?" he asked as he took an apple and the peeler from the basket.

"Why wouldn't it be?" she replied, perplexed.

He looked down as he began the menial chore. "Although Ore-sama does not want to worry Sakuno-chan," he said slowly, "it is possible that...well, she should have herself completely checked by a professional before deciding it is _only_ a fever."

It was then that Sakuno realised he was worried that there was more to her illness. Because there was already an important person in his life who was suffering from something beyond his control. Feeling a rush of sympathy, she quickly assured him she didn't _need_ a physical examination and that she would survive this fever. Cross her heart. He smirked a little at how childlike she was being, but nodded and dropped the subject for now. "Ore-sama does not like seeing Sakuno-chan sick and in bed," he went on to say. "Sakuno-chan should be outside, taking in the sunshine like the flower she is." Her face turned pink at his words. "By the way," he added casually, "this is the first time Ore-sama has ever seen Sakuno-chan's hair down."

She blinked and realised that he was right. Free from their twin braids, her long brown hair cascaded down her back in silky rivulet waves. She blushed harder when he said, just as casually, that 'Sakuno-chan looks even prettier with her hair down'.

If there was one remotely vain thing about Sakuno, it was the pride she took in her hair, taking painstaking care of it every day to maintain its shine and length. So even when her crush had criticised it as 'too long', the normally compliant Sakuno had rebelled against the very _idea_ of cutting it short. It was nice, she thought with a smile, to finally have someone appreciate it for once. She ruthlessly squashed down the secret desire that it could have been a certain cap-wearing boy who'd said those words instead.

Atobe continued to talk, oblivious of her inner turmoil, about his lessons that day. Occasionally he would steal glances at her before resuming his peeling, which she noticed with disturbing awareness. She looked at him for a moment and wanted to ask him if he'd done this for his mother as well. Peeling her apples, arranging her pillows, talking about his day, and giving her tender looks of concern that would have made any other woman weak-kneed had they been standing.

But she refrained and simply soaked in the one-sided conversation Atobe was making about his classes. When he wasn't sounding like a prima donna on steroids, Sakuno mused, she could easily appreciate the mellow timbre of his warm voice. It was rather...relaxing. Not that she would ever tell him that. The size of his ego was in danger of capsizing all the Asian continents as it was.

Just when she was thinking that this day wasn't going to be so bad after all, she heard _more_ footsteps coming to her room. Her eyes widened when she saw it was the Seigaku regulars, including the ex-member Taka who was carrying a plastic bag of fruits. Eiji was the first to her door, flinging it open in anticipation. "Sakuno-ch—" He paused in mid-pounce, arms akimbo as he gaped at Atobe. "What are YOU doing here, nyah?!"

The rest of the gang stood, their eyes shifting in turn from the annoyed Hyotei captain, the silent giant, to the sheepish Sakuno.

"Oh, it's just the Monkey King." Ryoma's bored-sounding mutter caused Sakuno to look up in surprise. He'd come to visit her as well?

"Atobe," was the only word Tezuka said in acknowledgement.

"Ah, it's Tezuka and his followers." Atobe nodded his own head regally, his tunnel vision ignoring anyone else who was not his 'Eternal Rival', much to their irritation.

Sakuno gave a feeble smile and a soft 'hello' to her new guests, who all decided to pretend Atobe was part of the furniture and returned her welcome. "Sakuno-chan," Eiji cried as he bounced over to her bedside, "we came as soon as we had the time!"

"Tezuka needn't have worried." Atobe cocked his head up arrogantly. "Ore-sama was here to lift her spirits."

"More like muck up her day!" Momo sneered.

Eiji nodded in complete agreement with a boyish frown. "You're not good for her health, nyah!"

"How rude! But then," Atobe eyed the not-Tezukas like the classless peasants he probably thought they were, "what can Ore-sama expect from people apparently raised by wolves?"

Momo gritted his teeth. "Better to be raised by wolves than to be born a condescending, irresponsible egotist!"

"You _dare_ call Ore-sama irresponsible?" Atobe pointed a finger accusingly in his face. "Just so you know, it was not Ore-sama who did not bother to share an umbrella with her after school ended and left Sakuno-chan stranded in the cold harsh rainfall! Especially since you are _all_ in her school! And you dare call yourselves her sempai-tachi?!"

Inui thought about it, and had to admit, "There is a 38.87 percent better chance that Sakuno would not have fallen ill if one of us had been present to give her an umbrella." And then the Data Man whipped out his trusty notebook to begin taking down the observation.

At this revelation, Eiji's face was horror-struck. "I-I..." He broke into dramatic tears and flung himself at the bedridden girl for a comforting hug. "Sakuno-chan, I've failed you! Please forgive your sempai, nyah!"

"Yeah, we were busy making the people who were bothering you—Ouch! HEY!" Momo stopped his earnest explanation to glare at Ryoma after the latter kicked his leg. Hard.

"Eiji, she's sick. Choking her isn't going to help," Fuji said as he tried to make the acrobat release the rapidly-turning-blue Sakuno.

"Let go of Sakuno-chan!" Atobe was about to gallantly rescue his princess when Momo's attention returned to him. "Wait a minute, we're not done here! I don't wanna hear _you _blaming_ us_! Aren't _you _her boyfriend? Why didn't _you_ take her home?!" Momo yelled as he repeatedly pointed at the eye-twitching Atobe for emphasis. This, of course, led the self-appointed Hyotei royalty to retort that his unimpeachable integrity would have indeed done so had Sakuno-chan not had some pressing afterschool business. Then he turned to send the still wailing Eiji a glower of death and ordered the hyperactive menace to 'unhand his girlfriend at once!'

"Err...guys, I don't think..." Oishi's voice of reason was lost in a sea of male posturing. By the doorway, Taka could only smile awkwardly at their energy while Kaidoh muttered something about "baboon brains", to which Momo immediately turned to bark back "hissing viper". Sakuno weakly tried to tell Eiji that it wasn't his fault so please let her breathe while Fuji, sadism toned down on seeing his kouhai's pitiful condition, was considering whether he should find a crowbar to pry Eiji's stubborn arms off. Ryoma sighed and walked over to Fuji to help save the poor girl from the redhead's suffocating embrace. Only Kabaji remained quiet and motionless, resembling a statue dedicated to patience from the lunacy of the humans around him.

Scribble. Scribble. Scribble.

For a while now, all the stone-faced Tezuka did was cross his arms and frown as everyone else did their little song and dance. But the tick on his head was increasing in speed and size as the idiots surrounding him began hitting an unreasonable level of noise pollution. Worse still, they were bothering sickly Sakuno with their nonsense. Finally releasing a red aura of demonic anger, his eyes suddenly disappeared behind gleaming glasses as he pointed to the door and flatly ordered each gulping tennis regular to "Get. Out. _Now_."

Like a herd of suddenly obedient sheep, the Seigaku tennis team followed their captain's command and shuffled out of the room (with Inui leaving last to thoughtfully grace the pale Sakuno with a concoction labelled 'Special Inui Vegetable Juice Reloaded for Fevers Deluxe Edition' containing sickly green liquid which _bubbled_ by itself and—_did a skull and cross-bone smoke just float up_?!). Except, of course, for Atobe, who insisted that there was something important he _had_ to tell Sakuno which would definitely 'bring a smile to her face'. Despite his better judgement hysterically screaming that it was a trap, the suspicious Tezuka reluctantly stepped aside from his protective hovering over Sakuno and allowed the Hyotei captain to deliver his 'important message'.

And so Atobe stood beside the sick girl's bed, bent down, and took her hands in his. "Sakuno-chan, Ore-sama did not come merely to give get-well presents to his girlfriend," he said, distracting the blushing Sakuno with the gentle messaging patterns his thumbs were unconsciously making on her hands. "It has come to Ore-sama's attention that your sempai-tachi have taken abysmal care of you—" Tezuka's eye twitched and she didn't bother reminding him that she was not a child to be babysat; it would be wasted breath with Atobe "—and therefore you need someone dependable to bring you home safely!"

Sakuno blanched. No, she denied helplessly, he _wouldn't_...

Oh yes, he would.

"So from now on, besides bringing you to school, Ore-sama will also take time out of his busy schedule to _personally _bring Sakuno-chan home from school _every single day_, rain or shine! All you have to do is provide a timetable of your afterschool routines for Ore-sama's chauffeur. Be awed by Ore-sama's generosity!" He paused in his self-praising when he heard the sound of her head plopping back down on her pillow. "Sakuno-chan? Are you listening? It is impolite to ignore Ore-sama when he is giving you his undivided time and attention! Sakuno-chan, are you all right?"

No, she was _not _'all right', she thought bleakly as she stared at the ceiling with dead eyes. If her sweet, peaceful school life was a file, there would be big, fat, red letters spelling GAME OVER stamped on top.

And it was all this...this JERK'S FAULT!

**TBC**


	6. 6

_**Part 6: Extraterrestrial**_

* * *

It was a good thing that he made that ridiculous announcement in their presence, because it was only with the combined forces of Tezuka's 'persuasion' skills, the shrill protests of Sakuno's personal squad of Seigaku bodyguards who had rushed in to 'save her from the devil' (Eiji's words), and the annoyed Sumire (who had come over to check what was the huge ruckus going on in her ailing granddaughter's room) that Atobe finally relented in his heroic crusade of being Sakuno's means of transport from school. After Ryuuzaki-sensei kicked out the loudmouths she had been so blessed to coach, it was decided (despite Sakuno's weak protests) that it would fall, instead, on the ever self-sacrificing Tezuka to ensure his kouhai's safety when coming home.

Still, Hyotei's stubborn 'King' refused to budge on the issue of getting her _to_ school, so Sakuno found _some_ consolation that there were at least two steadfast rocks willing to protect her life from being completely taken over by that domineering narcissist.

That is, until her grandmother made a call to her weekend part-time job. "Yes." Sumire's voice was loud enough that Atobe's uncanny auditory senses could definitely catch _each_ and_ every_ word she said. "Yes, Sakuno may not come to work tomorrow. She's down with a fever."

Which planted into Atobe's ingenious mind the absolutely brilliant idea of escorting his 'girlfriend' to work and back instead.

This time, Tezuka couldn't volunteer because of tennis practice.

And her Obaa-chan reluctantly agreed that Sakuno needed the extra security for some time, especially as she was recovering from an illness.

Just like that, her dependable rocks had forsaken her.

Great. Just great.

* * *

**On the day of reckoning...**

* * *

She made one last, desperate plea before it was too late. "Y-You really don't have to do this, Atobe-san..." No, seriously, you don't, Sakuno thought with dead enthusiasm as her luxurious ride halted in front of the pastry shop.

"Nonsense!" The bane of her existence waved away her petty worries like it was nothing. "As Ore-sama's girlfriend, it is not only his duty to ensure that you reach your workplace safe and sound, but he must also inspect your working conditions! Be awed by Ore-sama's selfless consideration!"

Oh, she was awed all right. So awed that she didn't consider herself worthy of his selflessness. So please _don't _tag along,_ please_.

One of Atobe's many godly talents, however, did not include telepathy (not that he'd ever admit it, of course) and so Sakuno's pitiful pleadings went unheard. Finally resigned to her fate, she slowly climbed out of the opened door of the limousine with stoic determination in her eyes. No matter what kind of crazy stunt he was pulling, she would endure.

"Sakuno-chan!"

A lively male voice called her name, which made her turn her head in surprise. It was a widely beaming redhead blowing a green bubblegum, wearing a recognisable Rikkaidai tennis jersey with a tennis bag slung over his shoulder. "M-Marui-kun!" she exclaimed, eyes rounding.

For the last two months, he'd been a reliable customer to the pastry shop she was working in, having fallen hopelessly in love with her baking skills and, by extension, the apprentice baker herself. This particular bakery had always been one of his favourite stops for a passing pick-me-up, but when Sakuno was hired it was like destiny had wrapped itself in a cream cheese flavoured muffin (his first Sakuno-chan dessert). She simply had a magic touch when it came to his taste, Marui had gushed tearfully to his heaven-sent guardian angel as he gobbled up the treat she'd kindly offered after _literally _stumbling over his struggling half-dead body on the ground (the result of a particularly grueling exercise courtesy of a stricter-than-usual Sanada). So what if she was from Seigaku? Let it never be said that Marui Bunta would ever let something petty like tennis rivalries get in the way of true love!

He even had it all planned out (doodled dreamily with the potent combination of kindergarten-level drawing skills and Picasso's imagination on the empty spaces of his biology notes as his boring teacher droned on). They would have a scrumptious gingerbread house and liquorice picket fences that would turn even Hansel and Gretel green with envy; she'd be in a pretty pink apron in the role of his personal pastry chef churning out his favourite confectioneries fresh from the oven; they'd have two genius tennis players for children (just like their equally genius Otou-san!); and his pathetic teammates can only look on helplessly, teeth gnawing on lace handkerchiefs and eyes burning in jealousy at his picture-perfect diabetes-inducing life. (Maybe, out of the deepest respect and the shining goodness of his heart, he'd share some of his cakes with Yukimura-buchou...on special occasions. Maybe.)

Ah, what a sweet life it would be!

Sakuno, for her part, was aware that Marui harboured a _tiny _crush on her abilities as a baker. After all, she'd counted a total of eighteen love confessions and eleven proposals for marriage (in person and electronically) last month alone. Nevertheless, though sometimes still flustered, it wasn't difficult for her to soon develop some immunity against his 'romantic' advances.

But the boy in question was almost leech-like in his persistence. Like now, as he flung at himself at the pigtailed girl, knocking the wind out of her with the force of his embrace. "Ah, Sakuno-chan, it's been too long!" he almost wept. "I felt like I was going to die if I couldn't have your desserts today!" In fact, he was taking a huge risk dropping by for a quick visit before rushing over to morning club practice. There would be hell to pay if he was late but, he thought with a grin, she was worth it!

Umm, Marui-kun, you came over for _four_ very rich, extra-large, triple-chocolate chip whole cakes just last week, was what Sakuno wanted to say but was too strangled by his bear hug to even breathe. The cheerful Marui was, however, rudely interrupted from his touching reunion with his Sakuno-chan when he felt someone roughly pull one of his arm off her shoulders. "You!" growled the purple-haired interloper. "Get your grubby paws off Ore-sama's girlfriend, you little monkey!"

"HEY!" Marui glared daggers at the offensive person...wait, he knew this guy. His eyes narrowed as he pointed at Atobe's unamused face. "What the—_Atobe Keigo_? What are _you_ doing here? And what do you mean 'girlfriend'? Sakuno-chan is going to be MY wife, so what are you babbling about?"

"YOUR wife?" Atobe snorted disdainfully at the completely preposterous idea. "Why would Sakuno-chan even _think _of having such a lowlife like you when she can have the pinnacle of perfection itself!"

"_Perfection_? YOU?" The sugar-loving volleyist crossed his arms and snorted right back. "Maybe in the Bizzaro World!"

"Are you questioning Ore-sama's perfection?"

Marui deliberately popped his bubblegum in Atobe's face, who in turn narrowed his eyes to slits at the impudence. "Don't like it? Then _bring it on_!" The redhead was suggesting—what else?—a no-holds-barred tennis match. "Winner takes all of Sakuno-chan's strawberry cream cheese muffins of love!" he declared.

"Very well." His would-be opponent brushed a hand through his elegant hair. "Ore-sama accepts your challenge, and will even go easy on you seeing as you're so low in the food chain." A vein throbbed on Marui's forehead. "Just wait here while Ore-sama deals with this pesky fly, Saku—hmm?" Atobe blinked, stopping short when he realised there was an obviously empty spot where the petite brunette used to be.

Where did she go?

* * *

**Meanwhile...**

* * *

The answer to the above question was simple. Sakuno had politely left the two arguing hotheads to settle their differences. It had been an uphill struggle to get where she was as an apprentice baker, especially at her young age. Her present position had only been possible because she'd first volunteered to work for free before eventually succeeding in persuading the head chef of her meticulous nature and the quality of her handmade desserts. The pay wasn't great and the chores were menial but the experience, she knew, would be invaluable. She wasn't about to be late for her shift simply because a bunch of aggressive male hormones were in overdrive.

After shyly greeting her co-workers, she was putting on her apron when she heard ringing bells, which usually signalled customers, and then ear-splitting noises could be heard all the way from the kitchen. She sighed heavily and, feeling responsible for the oncoming battle of egos, poked her head out of the main staff-only door to peek at the intruders.

"You are blocking Ore-sama's way."

"No, _you _are blocking MY way!"

"Ore-sama was here first!"

"No, my foot touched the doorway first!"

"Are you accusing Ore-sama of lying?"

"Your claim is about as true as your 'perfection'!"

"Then you should step aside, or can your underdeveloped brain not comprehend human language?"

"Well, I could agree with you, but then we'd both be wrong."

"Ore-sama disagrees, so that must mean only_ you_ are wrong."

"Ugh! People like you are the reason why the rest of us have middle fingers!"

"Ore-sama won't insult your intelligence by suggesting that you really believe what you just said."

Sakuno's eye twitched.

"What is with all this _racket_?" The annoyed manager of the bakery herself stormed out to the front. She was a woman in her mid-forties, loved dressing in formal black and hair always in a tight bun, painfully single, with square thick glasses and (secretly) six cats. It was easy to imagine how effortlessly irritated she can be, especially when it came to running the business like a well-oiled machine. "Our shop isn't open until seven and we have zero tolerance for _anyone_ who makes excessive noise." She glowered at the two guilty parties—the redhead was blowing his bubblegum defiantly while the taller one crossed his arms haughtily as they looked away from each other with all the maturity of elementary children.

This may sound heartless, but Sakuno's chest flared with hope that her manager would kick out a certain self-proclaimed Emperor so that she could get back to work (and experience some peace and quiet at last).

But then manager-san's eyes suddenly sparkled with recognition—or was it dollar signs? She batted her eyelashes and breathlessly asked, "A-Aren't you Atobe-sama?"

Hopes crushed.

Atobe smirked as he flipped his hair. "In the breathtaking flesh."

"Well, this changes everything." The manager clapped her hands together gleefully. "All right, just get rid of the redhead."

"This is discrimination! Discrimination, I tell you! You can't selectively treat your customers this way!" The indignant Marui yelled with a shaking fist as he was dragged out by the shoulders. He clung to the side of the doors before he was completely thrown out to earnestly shout, "I'll be back, Sakuno-chan! So get my cakes ready! Your husband will soon be back!"

Atobe rolled his eyes once the melodramatic Rikkaidai volleyist was finally gone. "Really. Doesn't that buffoon have any self-awareness?"

Sakuno could only sigh. _Look who's talking._

"Now, Atobe-sama," manager-san turned eagerly to her prestigious potential customer, "what can we _possibly_ get you in our humble establishment?"

The grovelling was the cue for the inwardly groaning Sakuno to retreat into the kitchen. Unfortunately, if she'd thought she was going to find sanctuary there then she was sadly mistaken, because the next thing she knew her personal stalker had _also_ invaded the kitchen. He'd been given permission by the manager because, as he liked to brag, 'no one said _no_ to Atobe Keigo'. Never mind that innocent Sakuno had done that plenty of times now in their (thankfully) brief association.

Her co-workers dropped what they were doing to stare with open curiosity at their new guest like he was a living, breathing, purple Martian (Sakuno wouldn't be surprised if it was true; it would explain the unhinged behaviour). "Who's that?" they asked in unison.

Sakuno tried to look nonchalant. She failed miserably. "O-Oh, he's my...err..."

"_Boyfriend_," Atobe supplied oh-so-helpfully, which made her flush crimson. Her workmates gasped at this revelation, turned to look each other and, even though she was standing _right _there, commenced Operation Destroy-What's-Left-of-Sakuno's-Peaceful-Ordinary- Life.

"What? I thought that redhead..."

"Told you he was just a friend!"

"Hey, isn't that the famous heir to Atobe Corporations?"

"Atobe-sama is her boyfriend? (Insert swooning sound here.) Lucky!"

"I thought she was interested in some other tennis player..."

"Yeah, what's his name again?"

"Hmm...Echi—something."

_No. Dear. God. Not here too!_ Sakuno's horrified expression could have been a dead ringer for Munch's Silent Scream. Immediately, she forced herself to do some slow breathing exercises to calm her frazzled nerves. She could survive this. She _would _survive this. Remember, she thought with closed eyes, WWOD? Her iron-willed Obaa-chan would stand her ground. In fact, Sumire would just shrug off these bunch of gossipers with no personal lives of their own and concentrate on doing a good job and—

She was rudely shaken out of her silent pump-up session when Atobe reached her side and casually slung an arm around her shoulders, loudly proclaiming to his wide-eyed audience that _he_ was her boyfriend now and those 'other pests' were already in the dustbin of history where they belonged. _As usual, Atobe-san doesn't seem to understand the meaning of personal space_, Sakuno thought as, cheeks scarlet, she politely tried to inch away from his grasp. Argh! Why did he have to be so much stronger than her? Perhaps she should try some devious diplomacy. Think smart, Sakuno!

"Err, Atobe-san," she began as timidly as she could, "I'd like to start baking and you can be rather distracting..."

Only Atobe's grossly inflated opinion of himself could take it to mean his charismatic presence was such a magnet for her adoring attention that it would prove fatal for her work performance (which was _exactly_ the impression she wanted to give). So he stopped breathing down her neck and sat in a corner on an elaborate throne-like chair (as befitted his most majestic self) which the manager had personally provided for him.

Finally, Sakuno felt free to get started.

To Atobe's amazement, she seemed to transform before his very eyes from a shy, stuttering, skittish duckling into a veritable domestic goddess. Like a newborn butterfly, she fluttered gracefully in the kitchen, knew exactly where everything was, and she had such an adorable look of concentration on her face whenever the head chef spared some guidance for her. There was, he noted with a fascinated expression, even a soft glow of joy about her when she did something as simple as kneading dough.

Sakuno was so absorbed in her work that she missed the blatantly admiring look that not even _he_ realised he was giving her. When she finally did happen to glance at him, she was surprised to find Atobe studying her with an oddly piercing look. Their eyes caught and he tilted his head, smirking shrewdly. "Sakuno-chan," he said, sounding amused, "Ore-sama is beginning to suspect that you put so much of your grace and focus into your homemaking skills that you end up leaving nothing leftover for other activities."

She nearly dropped the utensils in her hands at his unexpected comment about her one-track mind. Was it true? she wondered, flabbergasted. It couldn't be, right? No one else had ever mentioned this observation to her. Surely he must be making fun of her. To ease her awkward silence, she laughed and rubbed the back of her head bashfully. "D-Don't be silly, Atobe-san. It's kind of you, but you don't have to excuse my clumsiness."

She expected him to jump into theatrics and accuse her of rudely questioning his divinely gifted Insight. But he confused her again when he only shrugged and stood up from his chair. He wanted to make a call, he said and then winked, 'don't miss Ore-sama too much'.

How could this person be so...so _infuriating_! Sakuno thought as her eyes narrowed at his departing back. Honestly, sometimes he made her _so_ mad that-that she didn't know _how_ to respond.

He was just not good for her blood pressure.

"Ryuuzaki, the bread!"

He was also distracting her from her work.

"Y-Yes!" She pushed the egomaniac's irrational blather out of her conscious mind into the 'useless thoughts' department to get back into her baking. Unfortunately, the burnt loaves of bread were not salvageable for the bakery's standards and the tidy bags for the kitchen were already brimming. Mentally calling the jerk who caused all this trouble in the first place an unflattering name, she volunteered to take out some of the garbage herself. "I'll be back soon, guys," she called over her shoulders as she made her way to the disposal area with one of the heavy bin bags.

She should have known her string of bad luck wouldn't end there. Because she would have been less surprised when she heard suspicious footsteps behind her as she was slowly opening the heavy lid of the large green dumpster. Eyes wide, the pale Sakuno turned immediately to stare at the petty thug waving a knife threateningly at her. She looked close to keeling over as she flattened her back against the bin. "Don't make a sound," he snarled. "Your money or your life."

She should also learn not to be shocked when her self-appointed Knight in Shining Armour turned up behind the thief with remarkably good (almost absurd) timing. "Stop right there!" Atobe commanded with a dramatic point of his finger.

Recognition flashed in their would-be mugger's greedy eyes. "Well, well, well. Isn't this _Atobe Keigo_? Bet you must be loaded." He carelessly left the trembling Sakuno to advance toward Atobe, who calmly made a subtle gesture with his head advising her to 'run like hell, Sakuno'.

All she paid attention to, however, was that the thug was pointing his knife dangerously in Atobe's direction. In that instant, she felt a surprising surge of protectiveness for the Hyotei captain which made the normally docile Sakuno see red. This rush of adrenaline gave her the strength to instinctively haul up the hefty bag by her side to fling it straight in the crook's thick head. Atobe pounced on the opening she provided to twist the knife out of the startled criminal's hand and skilfully threw him headfirst into the open dumpster. The legs of the pitiful mugger twitched a second before he fainted from the stink mercilessly assaulting his senses.

They did it!

Sakuno smiled and was about to ask if Atobe was all right when she realised he was scowling. At _her_. Huh? She was rather proud of her unexpected spunk. But, for once, Atobe did not share her pride. In fact, he was downright livid. "You—" he looked ready to shake her shoulders until her pretty little head rolled off "—acted recklessly. You could have gotten hurt! You were lucky the idiot thug underestimated you!" He narrowed his eyes. "You should have ran when you had the chance!"

All desire to thank him for his rescue effort evaporated into thin air. Her face heated, although she wasn't sure if it was from anger or embarrassment. "I-I couldn't do that!" Sakuno protested, hating how she was stammering from her emotions because _she_ wasn't the unreasonable one here. "I-I couldn't j-just leave you to face danger all by yourself!" _Also, you're a hypocritical jerk._

"You do not trust Ore-sama?" he demanded.

"I-It's not a matter of trust!" _Why was I worried about this bigheaded mass of suffocating ego again? _She sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose—a secret habit she was beginning to pick up from Tezuka whenever he was forced to experience firsthand the demented antics of his maturity-challenged teammates. Atobe-san's pride probably couldn't handle being helped by a shrinking violet, she thought with rising irritation. "Y-You know what? Never mind." Her words were going to fall on deaf ears anyway. She should simply leave behind this ungrateful, unbearable, obnoxious piece of work right next to his natural habitat!

But just as she was turning to leave, her right wrist was pulled back. Atobe stared at the delicate hand and his expression darkened. "You're injured."

_Oh_, she blinked as she glanced at the hand, _he's right_. There was a thin abrasion between two of the fingers, probably caused when she had been dragging the heavy-for-Sakuno bin bag and made worse when she aimed it at the criminal's skull. But, she mused, it was only a small flesh wound. He didn't have to look like all her limbs had been sliced off with a rusty spork in a dramatic standoff. She opened her mouth to tell him this, but he'd already begun towing her back to the bakery. "E-Eh? A-Atobe-san, ah, w-what?" she stuttered her confusion.

Manager-san was shocked to see a furious Atobe suddenly storm into her office. Sakuno winced for the poor woman when he accused the manager of being 'a negligent, incompetent, pathetic excuse of an employer' and recommended she seriously reconsider the security of her position if she persisted in maintaining the 'sloppy mess that was her workplace safety'. Then Sakuno's mouth fell open when he listed out in super-precise detail the shop's myriad of vulnerabilities which could have been exploited by dangerous psychopaths ranging from lovesick tennis players obsessed with a certain apprentice baker to wild-eyed terrorists with homemade underwear bombs. _Sure, Atobe-san sounds like a paranoid nerd living in a dark basement_, she thought uneasily, _but it wasn't as if he's wrong_.

That, of course, didn't mean he should be suggesting a minimum of fifty bodyguards and a hundred CCTV cameras for his girlfriend's personal safety.

After thoughtfully informing manager-san where to find the probably still unconscious mugger before the fool smothered to death in a sea of trash, Atobe finished with: "Ore-sama is now going to take Sakuno-chan to see a doctor for a proper check-up on her hand." The cold intensity of his gaze settled harshly on the squirming manager. "Ore-sama_ insists_ Sakuno-chan returns home to recover from the trauma."

Her hand still trapped in his, Sakuno exhaled exasperatedly. _Who does he think he is?_

She must have accidentally wondered aloud again, because Atobe ran a hand through his oh-so-perfect mane and began to extol his many, _many _virtues. "Ore-sama," he announced with a theatrical wave of his free hand, "is the Emperor of Hyotei. King of Tennis. Lord of Refined Elegance. Intellectually unmatched. Unequalled in the flawlessness of his natural charm. The Prince of every girl's dream come to life..."

And humble. Don't forget humble, she thought wryly.

"...and he is Sakuno-chan's boyfriend." She was taken aback when his voice lowered gently. "It is Ore-sama's duty to protect Sakuno-chan." He glared at the offending abrasion on her hand as if it had no right to exist in the (delusional) reality he had imposed on the world.

She _should_ be irritated at how, as usual, the Reigning Champion of Overkill was blowing a mini-incident _way_ out of proportion. In fact, part of her _was_ irritated. But the other half (probably the gullible one that was _duped_ into being the 'love of his life' in the first place) softened on realising that she _was_ shaken by the unpleasant episode and how genuinely worried—even _guilty_—he seemed to be. Granted, Atobe's concern was expressed with all the eccentricities of a purple Martian from outer space. But, as her Okaa-san once said, it was the thought that counted.

Still, how could she leave her fellow employees hanging over such a trivial wound?

As he was pulling the still reluctant Sakuno toward the exit, she overheard the voice of a disgruntled female co-worker mutter, "Yeah, leave in the middle of work for a paper cut. Shows the level of dedication she has. But then—" a sneer "—if _I_ had a billionaire for a boyfriend, I'd ditch work too."

Now Sakuno felt even _more_ horrible at the way she was apparently causing trouble for the rest of her workmates. "Err, A-Atobe-san," she stammered, face crimson as she struggled to keep herself from being dragged off, "I'm fine. It's just a scratch." When he didn't even deign to spare her a glance, she felt a burst of frustration. "A-Atobe-san, please _listen_—"

He suddenly stopped and turned to look at her with solemn eyes that made her insides strangely squishy. "Ore-sama," his grip on her slim wrist tightening just so, "knows Sakuno-chan is a hardworking girl." The withering glance he sent the cringing co-worker's way guaranteed a future promotion which involved cleaning the sewers of Tokyo with a used toothbrush for the rest of her happy existence. "Ore-sama finds Sakuno-chan's diligent side a most noble trait indeed—" Sakuno's face turned pink "—but your personal health is more important. Moreover, it is Ore-sama who wishes to take you for a professional examination, not yours. What_ is_ shameful is to allow others to belittle your own hard work." He looked down from his height to flash a challenging smirk at the pigtailed girl. "Are you ashamed, Sakuno-chan?"

Staring at him, Sakuno realised that for once she didn't think his arrogance was as grating on her nerves as it usually was. She was even more surprised to find that, instead of blushing incoherently, she simply answered very firmly, "No, I'm not."

"Good." With an approving nod, Atobe resumed leading her to his limousine. And this time, against all sanity and commonsense, Sakuno found herself following this strange, _strange_ boy rather willingly.

* * *

**TBC**

* * *

**A/N:** _Thanks for the support so far, everyone. This is just a quick update. Don't have much time to say anything more with the busy holiday season except: Have a Merry Christmas and a wonderful coming New Year! _


	7. 7

**A/N:** _Phew! Finally finished in time for Sakuno-chan's birthday. Marui may pop up later. Expect some cameos from other cast members in PoT (and maybe characters from other works) as we go along. _

* * *

_**Part 7: Not! A Love Square?**_

* * *

It was a new week and, by now, Sakuno knew she shouldn't be surprised by all the prying eyes and mindless rumours circulating around her like a dizzying whirlpool without end. Thinking it, however, wasn't the same as experiencing it_ live _in 3-D. Try as she might, it was just impossible not to notice the countless eyes drilling holes of curiosity into her back anywhere she dared to show her face. She could guess what they were about. Some absurd love square that should have made any sane person with half a surviving brain cell chortle in disbelief. As if Ryoma-kun (who was stuck on tennis), Tezuka-sempai (who was like a long-suffering older brother), and Atobe-san (whose One True Love was himself) could find her remotely attractive as a _girl_. In fact, she had only caught the eye of the Essence of Ego himself because she was the Nice Girl who apparently fulfilled his mother's idea of The Perfect Girlfriend. And once Sakuno was pass her useful expiration date, she had no doubt that she would be relegated to Just Another Ex in Atobe's mile-long history of conquests.

Yeah, how romantic.

What made the whole situation even_ more_ uncomfortable? Well, Sakuno was kinda-sorta dating Atobe Keigo on fraudulent terms, so she was understandably hesitant on revealing the finer points of their 'relationship'. Like, how did they fall in love? Where? When? Good kisser? Questions like those rained down on her relentlessly like a hail of bullets by girls who had grown devious enough to corner Sakuno alone whenever Tomoka was distracted. On the up side, Sakuno actually learned to be grateful for her blushes and stammers, because they helped hide her non-answers by making her responses as comprehensible as her English essays. On the other hand, it also ensured that Sakuno's attempts at explaining that her 'other' suitors could only exist in the figment of their boredom-induced imaginations ended as exercises in futility. (Of course, it didn't help that half of Seigaku's student body could, in fact, rival Atobe in the selective hearing department.)

Life in her school had also changed from merely noisy from gossip just a few days ago, to downright _life threatening_. Not because of the gossipers. No, what made Sakuno frighteningly aware that the newspaper headlines may one day read 'Teenage Girl's Corpse Found Mutilated in Dark Alley' were the _fangirls_—Tezuka's, to be precise—who were smart enough not to launch an outright attack on the girl for fear of upsetting the Object of Their Worship, but dumb enough to march into Sakuno's Biology class on Monday morning to demand a private meeting for full clarification on her relationship with Tezuka. (They promptly beat a hasty retreat before the secretly pyromaniacal Tomoka could put the Bunsen burners at her disposal to creative use.)

Thereafter, to ensure the pigtailed girl's safety on school grounds, it became routine for the ever-loyal Tomoka to bark hostile threats and death-glare anyone who even so much as _look_ at Sakuno cross-eyed (the nail-studded baseball bat was still a work in progress). Not to be outdone, the overprotective Seigaku regulars—who had taken it into their heads that Sakuno's pristine reputation must be defended at all cost—were weeding out the culprits behind Sakuno's malicious character assassination like sniffer hounds on crack. After all, even_ if _her taste in men were kind of...questionable, their Sakuno-chan was loyal to the core and she wouldn't string along _anyone_.

Her earlier plans for the North Pole didn't seem like a joke now. But Sakuno was survivor and, with the help of her faithful friends, she endured.

And then Wednesday came. They had chosen different electives, so Tomoka didn't share her best friend's last class for the day. Nevertheless, she had offered to be Sakuno's personal escort to the school gate where Tezuka would be waiting...in case of an ambush. But Sakuno—aware that Tomoka had an imminent part-time job and a crabby manager that evening—had assured her noble friend that she could make it without help. Really, she could. She told a doubtful-looking Tomoka not to wait up because it would only be a brisk walk to the school gate where her sempai would be waiting. She would be fine. Cross her heart.

Sakuno intended to keep that promise. So, summoning all the powers of her concentration, she had waited until the coast was clear and then, quiet as a mouse, tiptoed down the school corridor like the ballerina hippos from Fantasia. She did some tricky Mission Impossible moves that involved scurrying behind conveniently located pillars and bushes (her sempai-taichi would have been so proud) before—_at last_—spotting her Prime Objective: the sweet pearly gates of freedom glittering under the sunlight like a beacon of hope. Almost there. Taking a deep breath, she looked left and right, then flattened her back against the wall to slowly—

"That's her! That's Ryuuzaki Sakuno!"

She froze.

Drat.

So much for subterfuge.

A group of rabid Tezuka-fangirls were shooting poisoned daggers at her through eyes filled with flames of undying animosity. At last, their target was alone and ripe for interrogation! They'd never had a problem with Sakuno before, because they thought she was too fixated with young Echizen to make cow eyes at their beloved idol. Who knew that this seemingly innocent little minx had such an insatiable appetite! And, to top it off, actually _daring _to break poor Tezuka's heart for the so-called 'King' of a rival school! Simply forgivable!

"Ryuuzaki Sakuno!" One of the fangirls, who had been made their representative after a game of rock-paper-scissors (for, shockingly, there was no _official_ Tezuka Fanclub), eyed Sakuno with such chilling contempt that our heroine feared she was going to ice over right there. "How DARE you treat Tezuka-sama with such disregard! After how much he was willing to sacrifice!"

Huh?

"Using him to make some lame hotshot from some other school jealous! Such traitorous behaviour! Such lows that would shame even a scum-sucker!"

Sakuno blinked. Again. And again.

"Any girl loved by Tezuka-sama should be overjoyed! He is as close to perfection there is! Smarts, looks, talent, dedication, leadership—he has it all!" The representative—and some of the other hormonal Tezuka-fangirls—actually began to weep sparkling tears of unselfishness. "We _loath_ you, Ryuuzaki Sakuno! But for Tezuka-sama's sake, please _reconsider dating him again_!"

Sakuno's first instinct was to yell: WE WERE _NEVER_ _DATING_ IN THE _FIRST PLACE_! Because she was well-bred and disliked confrontations, however, she pinched the bridge of her nose and silently counted to ten. "I-I don't know what you're..." Smoking. Drinking. High on. Because, unless they had been born mentally unbalanced, only substance abuse could explain their _bizarre_ ramblings.

"Annoying."

That one-word academic assessment of the situation made the absolutely baffled Sakuno and her melodramatic harassers stop short. It was Echizen Ryoma, who was looking bored out of his mind at the gathering of squawking hens blocking his path. "You're in my way," he told the irritated Tezuka-fangirls most helpfully.

"E-Echizen!" Tezuka's groupies squawked in an unmusical chorus, turning to face the indifferent Ryoma with indignant stares. "Aren't you angry at that ungrateful backstabber too, for abandoning her feelings for you when the going got tough!?" demanded their representative.

Sakuno flushed crimson as she looked down, an irrationally guilty feeling rising in her throat. But Ryoma, possessing all the sensitivity of a rock (which was, admittedly, an insult to rocks), only rolled his eyes. "It's none of my business." His deadpan reply made Sakuno's heart twinge. "Now _move_."

Despite his rather average height, the coldness in Ryoma's amber eyes made the representative's look like a measly snowflake. Obviously defeated by the superiority of his glare, the hapless Tezuka-fangirls scattered like so much frightened pigeons. It was, after all, better to run to fight another day.

Now it was just Sakuno and Ryoma—along with some random students in the backdrop, but they weren't plot-relevant right now.

Sakuno's cheeks reddened as she figuratively burned a hole in the ground with her stare. She was being a burden again, she thought sadly. With all the molecules in her body, she wished she didn't always show such a pathetic side of herself in front of him. "T-Thank you, Ryoma-kun," was all she could muster in her embarrassment.

Her childhood crush eyed her with his characteristic apathy for a brief moment, and then heaved a sigh. "You," he said flatly, "shouldn't let them get to you. It's a waste of time." With that, he proceeded to walk past her.

Shock widened her eyes as she felt her heart thump erratically. Okay, it wasn't as bad as it used to be. In the past, Ryoma would have reduced her into a stuttering wreck if he so much as _breathed_ in her general direction. Still, it would have been better if he'd just flat-out ignored her. She stared longingly at Samurai Junior's retreating back. _Ryoma-kun_, she commanded in her head, _stop being so nice. I'm trying to get over you and you're not making it easy._

"Sakuno."

The voice belonged to Seigaku's distinguished tennis captain, who had just made it to see Sakuno standing safely near the gate. The sight of Tezuka was like an oasis of calm in a desert in dire need of sanity. She ran up to him, smiling widely (and with immense relief). "Tezuka-sempai!"

"Did you wait long?" She knew him long enough to recognise the subtle apology.

"N-Not at all!" Frankly, she hadn't had the _time_ to wait.

As Sakuno appeared to be in one piece, he nodded and was about to lead the way out of the school when—what could make her day even _better_—an all-too-familiar limousine stopped near the gate.

Oh, joy.

Sakuno was sorely tempted to bang her head against the nearby wall. What was _he_ doing here? Bad enough that he had forcefully taken over her peaceful school mornings. She had thought she would _at least_ be free from Atobe's 'dynamic' self with Mitsu-nii accompanying her after school. The fact that there was at least a_ small _part of her time (and life) that wasn't going to be subjugated by the autocratic Atobe was the one solace she had taken comfort in, despite how guilty she felt about troubling Tezuka.

_Obviously_, it had been wishful thinking.

Although Sakuno instinctively tried to inch behind Tezuka, Atobe's eagle eyes easily located her. He was, as usual, attracting a lot of attention—mostly of the female persuasion—in a stylish sports jacket and dark trousers. Sakuno immediately realised he was dressed for a date (whether she wanted it or not).

_Okay_—she closed her eyes—_stay calm, Sakuno_. Only last week, she had lived another day after unwisely drinking Inui-sempai's 'medicine' in a bid for a faster recovery from her fever in the name of work, right? This, she tried to assure herself, was a piece of cake in comparison. She had to tell Atobe she had plans this evening and that he couldn't keep hogging her time (and bossing her around) when it was _she_ who was doing him a huge favour. She would have to explain to him—firmly—that her time was engaged unless it was _Something Very Important_ beyond his whims for the day.

When she opened her eyes again to bravely confront reality, Atobe was already in front of her. The stern talking-to she had been dying to unleash paused when, once again, she saw him glance ever so casually at her right hand. The mild abrasion had healed nicely, with only the barest hint that it had ever existed. Too late, her chance to put the first word in cheerfully waved past her when Atobe called her name and deliberately flashed her a sexy movie-star smirk, designed to make the women in his vicinity keel over from severe nose bleeding. Well, Sakuno thought with a small sigh, she felt faint by his presence all right. She returned his greeting with a weak smile and a soft "Hello, Atobe-san", which satisfied him enough to turn his attention to his Eternal Rival.

"Tezuka."

"Atobe."

What was it with men and one-word grunts? Sakuno wondered in exasperation. And why was she pondering about this Great Mystery of Life when she should be scrambling to make a quick getaway? Ah well, too late now. A manservant suddenly popped up from behind her to politely snatch her schoolbag and Atobe made a vice-like grip on her wrist to begin dragging her to his vehicle as if it was his God-given right. To both their wide-eyed astonishment, however, Tezuka prevented them from leaving with his own vice-like grip on her other wrist.

Silence.

Atobe slowly turned his head, narrowing his eyes dangerously at the challenge. It was a sentiment shared by Tezuka. The stoic captain was short-sighted, not blind. He had noticed Sakuno's lack of enthusiasm with her 'date' and, not for the first time, speculated on whether the Ryoma-dubbed 'Monkey King' had done something diabolical to blackmail the defenceless Sakuno into dating him. Tezuka blamed part of his misgivings on constant exposure to Momo's paranoid ravings and Eiji's overactive imagination (with Fuji in the background egging them on with an innocent, angelic smile). Indeed, stupidity can be contagious. "Are you sure?" Tezuka asked the still dumbfounded Sakuno, the meaning of his tone hinting that he was perfectly willing to roundhouse kick social niceties (along with Atobe) to the curb and carry her off to safety if she changed her mind.

Sakuno blinked as she felt Atobe's hold on her tighten a little more at Tezuka's words.

The tension was thick enough to slice up with a blunt tennis racquet. This, of course, didn't go unobserved by the now plot-relevant onlookers, who were all holding their collective breaths, phones and cameras at the ready as they eagerly anticipated the next episode of Sakuno's Most Interesting Love Life: Part III, Scene V.

Sakuno had to defuse the ticking time bomb. _Now_. "I'll be fine, Mitsu...err, Tezuka-sempai." She was almost frantic as she tried to cover up her mistake. She needed to be more vigilant in keeping their relationship under wraps, Sakuno thought resolutely. She was already a heavy load on Tezuka's busy schedule and she refused to add _more _gossip fuel by acting too familiar with him.

"Very well." The frowning Tezuka grudgingly released her but, despite the siren call of tennis practice, decided to stand by and wait until Sakuno was 'safely' in the limousine.

Sakuno would have none of it. "Tezuka-sempai. _Please_." And then she pulled out her trump card—the dreaded Puppy Dog Look. So what if it wasn't fair? If her sempai hovered there any longer like some...some jealous rival challenging Atobe for her affections, the rumour mill would surely latch on to their closeness with the rabid tenacity of starving hyenas and make Tezuka's life incredibly difficult. Just go, she begged him with her eyes, for your own sake.

Tezuka's frown deepened. When Sakuno's expression became even more pitiful, he finally relented and, giving one last warning look to Atobe, told his kouhai he would see her tomorrow. To her relief, with Tezuka out of the equation, the crowd around them "ahh"-ed disappointedly and slowly dispersed.

Sakuno smiled and used her free hand to wave goodbye to her reluctantly departing sempai before turning to Atobe, half-expecting him to gloat over how he'd one-up Tezuka. She was surprised, however, to find the flamboyant captain strangely silent, studying her face carefully with an unreadable expression. She fidgeted anxiously. "A-Atobe-san?"

He was quiet an unsettling moment longer. Then, Hyotei's intrepid captain slipped into his trademark smirk and resumed leading her to the limousine. Just as he had threatened—err, sweetly proposed last week, Atobe told her he was going to take her to a classical concert. They missed it previously because of her unfortunate illness, but no worries, they could make up for it this evening.

Sakuno's eye twitched. How like this _inconsiderate tyrant_ to assume she would joyfully drop everything in her life to hang onto his arm at a snap of his fingers. Couldn't he have at least _informed _her of this 'date' beforehand? Like _this morning _when he picked her up for school? Or how about calling her _yesterday_? Would that sprain his oh-so-precious hands? She swallowed her irritation and tried to reason with the impossible. "A-Atobe-san, I actually have plans this evening. I-I want to buy some reference books..."

But he wasn't listening (why wasn't she surprised?). In fact, His Royal Pain-in-the-Neck was already ordering his waiting chauffeur to head on over to the concert. At her wits' end, Sakuno tried to point out some flaw in his 'ingenious' plan so that she could save herself from an awkward evening stuck in his _glorious _company. "B-But I don't have anything appropriate to wear..." was her Nobel Prize-worthy excuse.

"Not a problem." As was his habit, Atobe waved away her concerns with a careless hand. "The chauffeur can make a stop at a passing dress shop."

Of course. Why didn't _she_, a mere peasant, think of that? Sakuno had to suck in a big, calming breath to control the _maddening_ desire to soundly whack this spoiled brat upside the head with the nearest blunt object. Useless. It was_ useless_ to argue with this-this _Neanderthal_. Best to just get this ridiculous date over with. At least, she thought with forced optimism, her frugal side wouldn't haunt her dreams for wasting the stupidly overpriced concert tickets. She was about to enter the open door of the limousine and resign herself to another date from the lowest pits of hell when she heard her 'Prince Charming' say, "Sakuno-chan, before Ore-sama forgets..."

She turned to him warily. There was a sudden glint in his eyes—reminding her of the gleam of Inui's glasses whenever the Data Man was up to some mischief—which put Sakuno on her guard. Sure enough, Atobe declared that "Ore-sama has a gift for her!" and, with a snap of his fingers, the male servant from earlier suddenly appeared from behind her as if by magic. The servant bowed his head and proceeded to show her a small, open box.

Even the somewhat technology-illiterate Sakuno recognised the sleek surface of the latest iPhone model out in the market, complete with a matching pink case decorated with sparkling Swarovski crystals and specially customised with a cute Hello Kitty background...which looked suspiciously similar to the print of the comfort slippers hidden under her bed.

Her jaw dropped open.

"Ore-sama understands." Atobe sighed dramatically as he lifted the obscenely expensive phone from the box and placed it into her frozen hands. "Sakuno-chan is so awed by Ore-sama's unmatched kindness that she has been struck speechless! But it is fine. No thanks is necessary for Ore-sama is simply doing his duty as Sakuno-chan's boyfriend!" Sakuno had a sneaking suspicion that this was becoming his favourite excuse to meddle into _every aspect_ of her life. "_And_, for Sakuno-chan's convenience," he continued as if she'd been breathlessly waiting for this moment all her life, "Ore-sama has already put himself on her contact list! It is the _first number_ she can call if she is ever in _any_ kind of trouble. Indeed, Ore-sama's generosity astounds even his humble self!"

The air in his head could definitely fill up all the gas stations across Japan, she thought dryly.

Atobe continued brazenly giving an impromptu manifesto on his _vast _and _unparalleled_ generosity until Sakuno finally mumbled something under her breath. Hyotei's self-styled monarch paused, confident smirk faltering and entirely certain that he _must _have heard wrong (while equally certain that his irreproachable hearing was _never_ wrong). "Hmm?" He leaned his head closer to her. "Pardon Ore-sama?"

"I-I said..." Sakuno inhaled deeply and burst out in rapid procession, "Thank you but I can't accept it!" Then she looked down and blushed to the roots of her hair.

Now it was his turn to freeze up. What trickery was this? Since when did girls turn down free gifts? Especially from their boyfriends? _Especially _from _Atobe Keigo_? Unless—the light-bulb in his head lit on—so _that_ was it. After a dramatic pause, he folded his arms and stroked his chin with an all-knowing nod of his majestic head. "Ah, so Sakuno-chan would prefer a Blackberry."

Only Atobe's logic was _special_ enough to reach such a conclusion. Sakuno stared, aghast, at this Master of Missing the Point. What would it take, she wondered in despair, to get it into his concrete thick skull that she didn't _want_ his well-meaning but completely unnecessary pampering? PowerPoint presentations? Okay, deep breaths. "I-It's just..." She tried to control her voice so that her speech impediment wouldn't be justification for his selective hearing problem. "I want to purchase my own phone with my own money." She pushed the phone into one of his hands. "So, err, thank you, but I can't accept it."

He blinked. Then, to Sakuno's utmost incredulity, he broke into a conceited smirk. "Ah, Sakuno-chan, your shyness is _so_ endearing! But there is no need to be modest." With the back of one hand resting theatrically on his head, Atobe pushed the phone back into her hands with a self-sacrificing sigh. "It's all yours out of the _awesome goodness_ of Ore-sama's heart!"

As usual, her words were going in one ear and out the other like there was no grey matter to hold them in. "Atobe-san," Sakuno said patiently, as if she was speaking to a headstrong five-year-old (she may as well be), "you don't have to do this. I-I'm not 'dating' you for your gifts."

Something flickered in his eyes. Sakuno was confused when his expression briefly softened. The moment was quickly over, however, when he insisted that she keep the phone. "Sakuno-chan already rejected Ore-sama's bodyguards," he said, looking almost offended at the memory of her timidly but firmly refusing his most benevolent offer as his limousine took them home after the check-up on her hand last weekend. That, Sakuno remembered with a grimace, was a long and arduous battle which resulted in a skull-splitting headache that had practically made her cross-eyed for an _entire night_. The mental trauma, however, was more than worth it because she'd rather _not_ have fifty armed bodyguards stalking her every move, thank you very much. "You _need _some form of protection, and Ore-sama cannot always be there by your side." Atobe sounded sincere in his regret and this touched Sakuno. "Ore-sama was shocked to find out you had no mobile unlike the rest of the civilised world—" okay, now she was annoyed again "—and he _insists_ that Sakuno-chan have one so that you can easily call for help!"

She was grateful for his concern. Really, she was. But, shoving the phone back into his hands once again, she stammered that she was close to saving up just enough for a good budget phone and besides... "Atobe-san, th-this is just _too_ much!" She was almost physically ill at the thought of losing the pricey phone thanks to her absentmindedness.

"Nonsense!" The vehemence in his expression and voice took her by surprise. "Sakuno-chan is Ore-sama's girlfriend and she deserves _only_ _the best_!_"_

She could tell he meant it, too. Her mouth went dry as his eyes burned intensely into hers, brooking no opposition or compromise. Then she narrowed her eyes and curled her trembling hands into fists. No! She refused to allow her resolve to weaken. Atobe Keigo was, in many ways, such a force of nature that he could easily make an EF5 tornado seem tame. She had to place both feet firmly on the ground or she'd be swept up by his pace.

The rebellious look on her face clearly didn't please him. "Sakuno-chan, don't be so obstinate," the _God-King_ of Stubbornness admonished with a completely straight face. He raised himself to his full height and held the iPhone out to her. "_Take the phone_."

He made it sound like an imperial edict, which only succeeded in driving Sakuno so high up the wall that she was practically seeing spinning stars. Fed up with her _darling_ boyfriend's apparently malfunctioning eardrums, she stuck out her chin, trying to look as bold and determined as her Obaa-chan would. "I-I'm sorry," she said, not at all sorry and voice shaking with barely suppressed rage, "b-but the answer is still_ no_."

He looked away and Sakuno thought she must have upset him with her refusal. She crossed her arms and looked the other way. Well, _too bad_. Even _doormats_ had their limits. She was tired of having this control freak completely dominate the tattered pieces of her normal life (which was all this _patronising_, _overbearing_, _self-centred_ JERK'S fault in the first place). She was going to get her own phone using her own cash and that was _that_!

What she didn't realise was that Atobe was using all his awe-inspiring willpower to resist expressing any amusement at the cute pout she was making. It was an absolute delight to observe how, whenever she was in one of her tempers, her delicate face could turn so many appealing shades of pinks and reds within the span of mere seconds. But, he mused as his lips twitched, he _refused_ to reward her stubborn behaviour. Why couldn't she see he was insisting this for her own good? What was so wrong with accepting his _exceedingly _generous gift anyway?

He glanced at her again.

Would she have rejected the phone if he had been Tezuka's prodigy. Or, perhaps, even _Tezuka_ himself?

It was suddenly very easy to scowl as all his amusement died a quick and mysterious death.

And so, wholly convinced that _their_ respective positions were in the right and it was the other who was being_ infuriatingly _difficult, their First Official Cold War commenced. The iPhone was returned to its box and the couple stiffly climbed into their respective sides of the limousine. Needless to say, the rest of the ride—which most girls would have happily gnawed off their own right arm to sit in—remained silent, tense, and plain uncomfortable. Well, Sakuno thought as she stared grumpily out at the buildings blurring past the moving limousine, at least it couldn't get any _worse_...

**TBC**


	8. 8

_**Part 8: Stuck in the Middle With You**_

* * *

It could get worse.

Sakuno swore to herself that she would never, _ever_ tempt fate ever again. No point poking fate in the eye if it meant revenge would be taken to such _excessive_ levels. Actually, a minor eye irritation couldn't _possibly_ be worth all this work. Fate must be bored instead. Yes, that made much better sense. Fate was bored and decided on a whim that Ryuuzaki Sakuno—who, as Fuji-sempai had once teased after playing an _innocent_ April Fool's joke at her expense, had 'kick me' tattooed on her forehead—was the ideal target for some fun cosmic bullying. That, she decided in the present time, simply _wasn't_ fair of fate. But then, she always _did _have some of the absolute _worse_ luck in the world...

All of this may sound like complete gibberish, but nonsensical thoughts were a nice distraction from the stares—and glares—being expertly thrown at poor Sakuno like razor-sharp shurikens from...pretty much every direction. Especially from members of her own gender. Good grief. Whoever peddled that hokum about 'sisterhood among women' must have either been a first-rate snake oil salesman, or stark raving mad. Many of her 'sisters' looked like they wanted to hogtie her in chains and toss her into the nearest rushing river—with starving, bloodthirsty piranhas dumped in for good measure. But, Sakuno mused, at least it was easy to deduce that these must be some of the famed 'Atobe-fangirls', who_ all_ apparently needed some good therapy for their anger management issues. In any case, Sakuno had never been more thankful for her country's ironclad laws against first-degree murders. Would it be enough to dissuade the fervent Atobe admirers from carrying out their killing intent, though? There was, she thought only half-jokingly, a _frightening_ possibility that some of them would be willing to risk _everything_ to get rid of what they considered a 'romantic threat'. If they only knew the truth...

Ah, to be an invisible wallflower again...

A sudden applause broke into her nostalgia about her past nonexistence. Sakuno blinked, remembering that she was actually supposed to be 'serenaded to the heavens' (according to the complimentary program) by—what was it again?—ah, yes, Mozart's _Eine Kleine Nachtmusik_. Now, she may not have had Atobe's 'awesome' refined taste, but as a _simple peasant_ she could enjoy her fair share of the popular classics. She'd almost forgotten she was even in a concert, though. Understand that it was difficult to pay much attention to the astonishing musical skills on display when she was being used as mental target practice.

She glanced, eyes narrowed, at the boy beside her who was responsible for all this. The impassive Atobe looked perfectly at ease with himself (but of course, his life wasn't at risk, now was it?). He hadn't spoken a word to her since The Incident. Well, Sakuno thought with a frown, she would count that as a blessing. Not to mention a _miracle_. For once, he wasn't talking her ears off about his 'extraordinary' self. Maybe they should argue more often...

She was distracted from her fuming when an announcement was made about a 20-minute intermission. Sakuno stood up stiffly, intending to refresh herself. She wanted so much to just storm away in a huff from Atobe's side, but she would be polite—even if it _killed_ her. "I, umm, need to use the restroom," she told Atobe, who merely glanced at her coolly and nodded. Fine, Sakuno thought crossly, _be that way_! As soon as she left her seat, a horde of fancily-dressed socialites rushed to take Sakuno's place and surrounded Atobe's VIP seat to fawn over the bored-looking heir with all the adoration of cult followers. Jeez, Sakuno mused, you could practically see the drool dribbling down their chins. Shaking her head, the young Ryuuzaki made her way toward the restroom. Luckily, there was a convenient map providing directions in the main hall...

"Ryuuzaki Sakuno?"

Sakuno turned from the map to face the person who had called her. It was a stop-the-traffic-lights gorgeous teenage girl with long, flowing teal-coloured hair dressed in a knee-length, off-the-shoulder black dress. Standing beside this astounding beauty was her nervously hovering butler. The ojou-sama looked down her nose at Sakuno—which was, admittedly, an easy thing to do as she cheated with her five-inch heels.

Our heroine had a _bad _feeling about this. "Y-Yes?"

"_I_ am Wakamori Midori." The girl introduced herself courteously but with all the warmth of an arctic wind. "Are _you_ the one currently dating Atobe Keigo-sama?" She held up a posh-looking diamond-studded Smartphone, which distracted a gawking Sakuno for a moment before the pigtailed girl realised she was supposed to be looking at the image being displayed. It was, Sakuno realised, a picture of herself being dragged—err, _romantically guided _down the street by Atobe-san.

"E-Eh, umm." Sakuno had expected an inquisition sooner or later from the Atobe-fangirls, but it was still nerve-wracking. She blushed, her fingers clasped together nervously. "Well...yes." And because it was only polite, she added, "I-I'm Ryuuzaki Sakuno. Pleased to meet you."

Midori did not return the pleasure. In fact, she swept a critical look up and down the pigtailed girl before finally settling on being less than impressed. What in the name of all that was chic and fashionable was this unrefined commoner even _wearing_? The ojou-sama crinkled her nose. The dress was so simple. Sandals instead of heels. No jewellery. Hairstyle was _so_ preschool and—Midori was dangerously close to swooning from being in close proximity to such a fashion disaster—_no make-up_ except for some low-end lip gloss! Ugh. What was Keigo-sama _thinking_? Or...had this conniving girl cast some sort of commoner voodoo spell to cause him to completely lose his senses? "Now Ryuuzaki-san," the heiress began in (what she thought was) a perfectly reasonable tone, "and I say this for your own good as well as Keigo-sama's—but don't you think you're being too presumptuous?"

Sakuno looked at her blankly.

Midori sighed. Apparently, the commoner was slow on top of being a fashion victim. "The clothes you're wearing. The very _air_ you're giving off. It's all so...so_ beneath_ Keigo-sama's usual standards!"

Sakuno's mouth dropped open to better marvel at Midori's amazing frankness.

"Indeed—" Midori flipped back a stray lock of her long hair "—Keigo-sama is free to date whomever he chooses. After all, our engagement, though imminent, has not been made official. But surely—" she tapped her chin with a long, manicured finger as she examined Sakuno's face more closely "—Keigo-sama could do _so_ much better, commoner or no."

Sakuno had to struggle with all her remarkable self-restraint not to yell: WELL, YOU CAN _HAVE_ HIM! Atobe Keigo was—pardon her unladylike language—an even _bigger _prick than Fuji-sempai's most prized cactus. And don't get her started on the magnitude of his vanity, which somehow hadn't been deemed a walking offence to civilised society. In fact, from the looks of it, he and Midori _belonged together_!

"I've made a background check on you, if you don't mind," Midori continued, seemingly oblivious to the twitching Sakuno who very much_ did_ mind. "According to reliable sources, Ryuuzaki-san doesn't have the pedigree of even the _average _commoner." Midori sighed dramatically. "Ryuuzaki-san, don't get me wrong. You have my deepest sympathy for your many misfortunes. It is not _your _fault you were born into poverty. It also cannot have been easy to lose one's mother at such a young age. And one simply _can't _change the fact that one's father is a worthless vagabond who doesn't have the backbone to take responsibility for his family. But as Keigo-sama's current _petite amie_—however brief—you must understand that you will come under harsh scrutiny." Midori's attractive face hardened as Sakuno's eyes glazed over. "So, at the very least, you must dress and act the part! Of course, it is understandable that Ryuuzaki-san will never reach _my_ standards of beauty and breeding, but it will reflect badly upon Keigo-sama if you insist on such a dreary wardrobe! And whatever reflects badly on Keigo-sama will reflect badly upon _me_, his future fiancée!"

The dots joining Midori's logic from Point A to Point C was failing to make a connection in Sakuno's mind. The pigtailed girl pressed a hand to her temple. "I-I wouldn't want to cause Atobe-san any trouble," Sakuno said diplomatically. "But don't you think you're being, umm, a little..."

"Harsh?" Midori folded her arms and raised a perfectly-plucked eyebrow. "Not if it is simply the truth, Ryuuzaki-san."

_The truth?_ Sakuno mulled over what the female socialite had said of her family situation, her lack of proper pedigree, the plainness of her looks, and had to admit that Midori wasn't wrong. She sighed. Perhaps she should have picked out a fancier dress and better shoes for the concert. But in a moment of spite (and thriftiness ingrained in her as a so-called 'commoner'), Sakuno had decided on a simple white dress and sandals over the protests of the shop assistants. (Atobe hadn't said a word about the personal statement she was obviously making, although Sakuno had found it deeply suspicious how his lips kept twitching as he struggled not to look at her.)

Really, compared to the radiant Midori, Sakuno felt like a lowly bug crawling on a shadowed pavement. No, worse than a bug—a pitiful _amoeba_. Shoulders slumped in defeat, Sakuno looked up at the taller girl and said a bit wistfully, "You must love Atobe-san very much if you're willing to go so far to protect his reputation."

Sakuno was taken aback when the heiress let out an improper snort. "_Love_?" Midori repeated in absolute incredulity. "_Love_? Don't be silly! Ah, Ryuuzaki-san, you're so naive it's adorable!" Maybe, she thought as she looked into Sakuno's honest eyes, that was why Keigo-sama had found himself momentarily interested in this little girl. Ryuuzaki-san, it would seem, was an innocent—a rare quality even among the commoners. But it also meant that this little girl would never be able to survive in the cutthroat world of fake smiles and backstabbing social climbers the elites lived in. Midori sighed. "Ryuuzaki-san, sentimentality had nothing to do with my decision to have Keigo-sama as my husband. But in every way that matters, he is the perfect partner for me." Indeed, she was supremely confident that their joining would create a dynasty that would reach new heights for both their families and breed a new generation of excellence in the gene pool! No need to thank them, humanity.

Sakuno shot Midori an irritated look. _What? _How could this...this spoiled ojou-sama treat Atobe-san this way? As if he was some Prada bag leisurely chosen for a matching dress? Granted, the infuriating male could swing between the extremes of either being the_ strangest _life form this side of Earth or a secret Cro-Magnon in modern guise. But sometimes...sometimes Atobe Keigo could be kind of _nice_, and no human being should be treated like some object...

...or maybe that was her hopeless Good Girl side talking. Mitsu-nii had often warned her against thinking too well of people who didn't deserve it, lest they cruelly take advantage of her innocence. But was it so bad to want to think the best of people? Even if it _was _Atobe Keigo?

"Well, it is about time I take my leave!" Midori pronounced with a dramatic toss of her hair. Today's concert had been dreadfully boring thus far and the musicians were positively _subpar_. Fortunately, she'd only bothered to book a last-minute ticket because she'd heard that Keigo-sama was bringing along his latest conquest; and now her curiosity was more than satisfied. She cast one last, almost compassionate glance at Sakuno, who was starting to space out. _What a peculiar commoner!_ Midori mused with a shake of her head. "Enjoy your time with Keigo-sama while you still can, Ryuuzaki-san. And remember, _always dress to impress_!" With that sage advice which sounded more like a personal motto, Midori turned to gracefully flounce away on her five-inch heels while ordering her butler to prepare the limousine to take her home. Sakuno was left rooted to the spot, still reeling from one of the oddest confrontations she had ever experienced.

"Ryuuzaki Sakuno?"

Sakuno froze as, once again, her full name was being called. At first, she was too terrified to look behind her in case it was another hostile fangirl...but then she realised it was a male voice. And wonder of wonders, it actually sounded _friendly_.

"You're Ryuuzaki-chan, right?"

She finally gathered enough courage to turn around. Her stomach seemed to plummet to her sandaled feet when she saw it was a familiar-looking Rikkai tennis player who had stopped in front her. The black seaweed hair and vivid green eyes were unmistakable. Alarming memories of his devilish expressions and overaggressive playing during matches with Seigaku drained the blood from Sakuno's face. "K-Kirihara Akaya-san?" she managed to squeak out.

"Yep!" His brain obviously not suffering from flashbacks of a demonic Sakuno, Kirihara offered her a boyishly charming grin. As the granddaughter of the infamous Ryuuzaki Sumire, he knew it was no surprise that she would know his name. Still, he was pleased. "Nice to finally meet you!"

Oh. She blinked. No bloodshot eyes. No malicious aura. No death threats. He didn't seem so bad at that moment. Her inherent good manners made her reply with a dazed: "N-Nice to meet you, too."

"I've wanted to see you in person all this time," he continued after heaving a dramatic sigh. "Ever since Marui-sempai started acting all weird..." Kirihara leaned closer to Sakuno, who in turn leaned so far back she almost toppled over. Through the haze of her panicking mind, she heard the Rikkai player's voice lowering as if he was sharing his top secret tennis techniques with her. "Marui-sempai actually has a picture of you in his locker." His grin broadened when her mouth fell open and he raised a finger to his lips. "Shh! Don't tell him I told you that." Spilling such an embarrassing secret was sweet revenge for the annoying redhead's selfishness in refusing to share his desserts with Kirihara all this while. Take _that_, Marui-sempai!

Sakuno only started breathing normally again once Kirihara straightened, which effectively meant he was no longer invading her personal space. She stared down at her feet, poking her forefingers together. "A-Ah, it can't be...err, I mean..."

Kirihara was amused to see scarlet red creeping up from her neck as Sakuno stammered on about how it couldn't possibly be her picture in Marui-kun's locker. Hmm...now that he had taken a good look at her, Kirihara could totally understand why Marui-sempai would crush big time on this girl. She was, he mused, _really_ cute. Like an easily flustered little bunny. What with those incredibly long, twin pigtails she had. He watched, mesmerised, as the braids shook to and fro with every move she made. In all his youthful exuberance, he almost couldn't resist giving one of her braids a playful tug. In fact—

"Akaya,_ behave_."

Said boy winced sheepishly, a hand freezing in mid-stretch. The sharp reprimand came from an approaching Sanada, whose mouth seemed to be thinner than usual in his disapproval. He was followed by Jackal and Niou, who were both curious as to what had been hogging Kirihara's attention all throughout the performance. Whenever their kouhai hadn't been struggling not to doze off lest he suffered Sanada's Slap of A Thousand Pain, Kirihara had thrown glances in a direction _away_ from the stage to his lower far right all the way down to the front row seats reserved for VIP guests. The dozing part was, as Yagyuu would have put it, par for the course. Rikkai's Junior Ace had never been too keen on classical music, no matter how much Sanada tried to gently shove it down his throat. No, it was really Kirihara's apparent interest over some_ girl_ which was a matter of much concern for his nosy—err, caring sempais. They were all supposed to be fixated_ only_ on tennis. It wouldn't do to have another regular on the team fall victim to that Ancient Enemy of Tennis called Love.

In his defence, Kirihara would have preferred running 300 laps than suffer through the torture of the boring orchestra that evening; especially since he believed classical music attracted a disgustingly high ratio of stuck-ups from their ivory towers. On the other hand, before the Gentle Reader should rush to blame Sanada for the ensuing series of events, it must be noted that his intent had been purely altruistic. Indeed, he had first been inspired by a new favourite Edo-period drama (which shall remain unnamed) to drag the, ahem, less _mature_ Rikkai regulars along with him on occasional trips to classical concerts, cultural events, art galleries, and other locations of civilising repute. It was, as he'd solemnly explained to an amused Yukimura during a team meeting, for the dignified purpose of bolstering teamwork through 'male bonding rituals outside tennis'. When Yukimura had asked for the opinion of their resident data collector, the straight-faced Yanagi had carefully predicted a probable increase of 60 percent for said teamwork if Sanada's plan was put into motion. And so, with the full blessings of the other two Monsters of Rikkai (both of whom Kirihara could have sworn looked faintly sadistic at the time), the remaining regulars acted like they had a choice and reluctantly complied with Sanada's little scheme.

Of course, Sanada was not _only_ motivated by the honourable idea of building stronger teamwork, which would mean a higher chance of victory for Rikkaidai. You see, the fukubuchou was also fully convinced that such activities—technically unrelated to tennis—was a _treat _for his less than thrilled teammates. Which was why Sanada had judged Marui unworthy of joining them this time around (the redhead had been secretly throwing internal confetti when his fukubuchou gravely announced this 'punishment', even as he did his best to look heartbroken). Marui's shameful slacking recently—_especially_ missing an hour's worth of morning practice last week—was most troublesome indeed. While the volley specialist had maintained—even somewhat surpassed—his usual efforts in his training performance thanks to an _extra _abnormal spurt of sugar rush, Sanada would tolerate no latecomers and had punished the boy accordingly. Tardiness was a sign of disrespect and lack of dedication, Sanada had mused darkly after a good round of slapping and ordering 200 laps for the hapless redhead...just for starters.

Imagine the joy of Rikkai's illustrious Emperor later that same evening to discover that the source of Marui's sudden distraction from the serious business of tennis was in the form of a young girl—from a _rival_ school, no less. Niou and Kirihara had had a field day when they spotted the small picture of a certain pigtailed girl tucked inconspicuously in a corner of the redhead's tennis locker after practice was over. Sanada had stomped over to see what idiocy had infected their noisy antics this time, only to have the photo fly straight to his face by accident after Marui and Kirihara nearly tore it apart from their tug-of-war. After hopefully smacking the childishness out of the pair (a tall order, Sanada had to admit), their fukubuchou scrutinised the hastily taken picture with a hard frown. On turning to glance at Yanagi, the Data Master had promptly looked up from his notebook and supplied for Sanada the name of the culprit behind Marui's recent lack of focus.

Ryuuzaki Sakuno, granddaughter of the renowned Seigaku coach, Ryuuzaki Sumire.

Sanada regarded her now, recognising the girl whom he had secretly deemed living proof that Love and Tennis just didn't mix. "Ryuuzaki Sakuno?"

Her name sure was popular today, thought Sakuno. "Y-Yes."

Jackal blinked as he, too, peered down upon the Object of Marui's Obsession (besides sugar-related foods).

"Puri!" This unexpected development set off a strong spark to Niou's interest which, according to his many (decidedly biased!) victims, was never a good thing. "You're the girl Marui's been crushing on!" The mischievous leer that curled his lips spelled trouble with a capital T.

"Th-That..." Sakuno turned pink all over as she nervously backed away from the advancing Niou. "Ah, you-you're mistaken. I, umm, I'm not...there's no way..." Oh dear. If only Obaa-chan or Mitsu-nii or Ryoma-kun... _No, no, Sakuno_, she chided herself as her eyes narrowed. _You can't rely on them forever. You'll survive this on your own two feet...somehow._

"Hey, hey!" Kirihara felt an unexpected surge of protectiveness for the poor, defenceless bunny beset by the heartless wolves that was his sempai-tachi. He edged closer to step in front of her and raised a hand, which halted an annoyed Niou's progress. "Take it easy on her, Niou-sempai. It's three against one! And besides, does it_ look_ like she could even hurt a fly?" Sakuno's eyebrow twitched at the unintended barb.

The leer on Rikkai's silver-haired Trickster became downright vicious. "So Marui's not the _only _one with a crush..." He proceeded to hum a tune that sounded suspiciously like sitting-in-a-tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G.

Kirihara's whole body stiffened. "E-EH!?" Then his face went beet red as his arms flailed about excitedly. "W-Wait! You got it all wrong!"

Jackal groaned. "Niou, don't—" Too late. He pressed an index finger to his forehead as if to contain a throbbing headache as the twosome began to squabble...well, more like Niou teased a storm and Kirihara denied everything until his face turned blue.

Sanada opted to ignore his juvenile teammates this one time to coolly eye the new source of Rikkai's internal conflict, which remained his top priority. "Ryuuzaki-san," he began, stern voice polite and all business, "I am Sanada Genichirou, the fukubuchou of the Rikkaidai Boys Tennis Club." At her nod, he continued, "Forgive me for being so forward, especially as we have just met...but _we need to talk_." No point beating around the bush, was one of the pillars of his strict dogma. A good discussion about her effect on Marui, he thought grimly, was necessary. It was not only for Rikkaidai's sake, but for Ryuuzaki-san as well. Better his warnings, really, than Yukimura's version of _A Gentle Word of Caution_.

Sakuno paled. Uh-oh. As people the world over would attest, 'we need to talk' was a dangerous combination of four magic words which rarely—if ever—boded well for the receiving party. And, she thought as she nervously glanced up at Sanada's forbidding features before looking down again, he didn't exactly inspire warm, fuzzy feelings with that look. What had she done to warrant such an expression anyway? All she did was cheer for Seigaku...and feed Marui-kun some of her handmade pastries. Was any of that some kind of federal crime worthy of maximum-security prison?

Sanada was aware of the nature of her distress and tried to look less intimidating by, ahem, smiling. Unfortunately, his mouth curved instead into an unnatural grimace which more closely resembled a demented yakuza out for blood; this only made a gulping Sakuno pray harder for dear life. Giving up (and grouchily thinking that this was the _other_ reason why the idea of him ever dating was _beyond_ laughable), Sanada resumed his stony expression and pressed on. "It is about Marui. Lately—" His words were subsequently drowned out by the increasingly rowdy boys yelling at each other from behind him (with Jackal attempting to pull back the red-eyed Kirihara from outright attacking the taunting Niou). Sanada's face hardened. Those disruptive _dolts_. Couldn't they behave for even_ five seconds_ without his chaperoning? Really. Sometimes it felt like he was babysitting _nursery children_. Much to Sakuno's gaping amazement, Sanada slowly, and with practiced elegance, pulled out a wooden kendo sword from out of God only knew where. "Please excuse me for a moment, Ryuuzaki-san," he said, giving her a courteous nod of his head before turning to advance upon his bickering teammates with malevolent intent in his eyes.

Naturally, as her survival instincts were alive and kicking, Sakuno had no intention of sticking around for whatever 'talk' the fierce-looking, kendo-sword-wielding fukubuchou had in mind. It was rude to leave, yes, but forgive her if she wanted to live all the more. As quietly as possible, Sakuno tiptoed the opposite direction from the Rikkai regulars and—_oh my_. She cringed when she realised her path was being blocked by a group of patiently waiting Atobe-fangirls trying (and failing) to look nonchalant.

Their unfortunate target paused to consider her options. She looked to the left of her where Atobe's personal Estrogen Brigade looked all too willing to run her over with a 25-ton truck as soon as there were no witnesses; then she looked to the right where a bunch of panicking boys were busy pointing fingers at each other in front of their menacing-looking fukubuchou; and finally she looked up heavenward to beseech whatever merciful deity to please kindly drop in and save her from this waking nightmare. Of course, her silent plea for help was understandably difficult to transmit as there were layers of ceiling cladding preventing her hopeless gaze from reaching upward.

"Ryuuzaki Sakuno?"

"E-Eh?" Before Sakuno could formulate a proper response, two security guards leaped to her side, each grabbing one of her arms. They unceremoniously lifted her up from the ground and carried the dumbfounded girl past the cluster of glaring Atobe groupies—who reluctantly gave way for them—down the main hallway and into the concert hall.

"Sakuno!"

That voice. The pigtailed girl inwardly groaned. You know, when she pleaded for a merciful deity to drop in and save her, she didn't actually mean a delusional God-King wannabe and his merry band of security guards. Still, she supposed it was a better alternative than death by teeth-gnashing fangirls...or overly violent Rikkaidai players, for that matter.

Sakuno's feet found solid ground again when the security guards gently let her down. Atobe made a straight beeline for her, brushing past the VIPs and eager women vying for his attention. Sakuno sighed when the first thing he did upon reaching her was to grasp her shoulders and draw her to him. "Sakuno, where _were_ you?" Atobe demanded, completely forgetting that he was angry at her and throwing his much bragged about composure straight out the nearest window. "Were you lost? Hurt anywhere?"

So he'd been worried for her. Funny. She'd only been gone for—what?—fifteen minutes? Even so, Sakuno felt her resentment toward this incorrigible boy melt away just a little. "Atobe-san..." She lightly patted one of the hands gripping her shoulders. "I'm fine. I-I just got a little lost." _Oh, and Rikkai regulars and your wonderful fans are trying to bump me off, but let's not get into that._ After all, those fifty bodyguards still hung over her head like a guillotine awaiting even a hint of weakness.

Atobe's thorough gaze roamed over her. Once he was satisfied that she was indeed fine, he released her shoulders and returned to his poised, conceited self. "Ah, Sakuno-chan," he said, shaking his noble head at her with a bemused sigh, "you need to always stay by Ore-sama's side. It seems whenever Ore-sama takes his eyes off you for even a second, you get into _all _kinds of trouble."

Sakuno's eye twitched. Yes, even Obaa-chan had teased for her being such a bully-magnet. It was part of the reason why the Seigaku regulars had (over)zealously decided that, as her dependable sempai-tachi, they needed to protect their beloved Sakuno-chan by _any means necessary_. Now, she was honest enough to concede that she must have been born under an unlucky star...but did this _condescending_ _jerk_ have to rub it in her face?!

Heedless of her protests, Atobe very gentlemanly seized Sakuno's wrist and _dragged _her back to their seats in time for the second half of the programme. And as soon as they thought Atobe wasn't looking, the growing faction of anti-Sakunos resumed glaring daggers at the pigtailed girl, who took the hint and tried to get Atobe to _let go_.

Naturally, he didn't.

With a sense of resignation, Sakuno sank into her seat, wrist bound in Atobe's strong grasp like a condemned prisoner, and tried her best to endure this oh-so-much-fun date with as much dignity as she could muster. Just a little bit more, Sakuno thought wearily as the orchestra began playing their music. A little bit more and this will all be over...

* * *

**An hour later...**

* * *

Wait, did she really think this date was going to end simply because the concert ended? Sakuno almost laughed at her naivety. Of course, being the extra special VIP that he was, Atobe _had_ to mingle with the lingering VIPs and his drooling admirers. _And why wouldn't he make small talk with them?_ she mused wryly. _Atobe-san _adored _being adored. _

The problem, however, was that she was forced under the spotlight right along with him. Okay, it was all well and good for Atobe to soak up attention like a photosynthesising plant to sunlight; but the attention Sakuno was receiving was far from positive. She lowered her head, unwillingly shackled to Atobe's side by his death grip on her wrist. The stares on her, Sakuno knew, were mostly either speculative or scornful. Well, she was sorry she wasn't up to their—or Atobe-san's—high standards, but did they have to be so unkind? Not that wealthy upper-class snobs were the only ones capable of such malice. Yes, she thought, brown eyes dimming as painful memories of taunting kindergarteners crept up in the back of her mind. It certainly wasn't the first time she'd been viewed as lower than a subhuman because of who she was...what she lacked...

In fact, what was she even _doing_ here? No one with two neurons to rub together was going to believe _she_, of all people, was Atobe-san's girlfriend! He needed a sophisticated, rich, high-society girl like...like _Wakamori Midori_; not plain, klutzy, peasant girl Ryuuzaki Sakuno!

"Sakuno-chan." Atobe's amused voice barely registered in her thoughts. He'd been stealing glances at her, not liking how uncomfortable she was being in his presence. When her eyes remained downcast, the corner of his mouth twitched as he lifted her chin with a finger. "Ore-sama's eyes are up here."

Her head shot up like a jack-in-a-box as she glowered at him, cheeks flaming and breathing hard in a superhuman effort to keep her temper in check. Oooooooooooooooh, only this maddening, ill-mannered _lout_ could push her tolerance level to the limit! And—she clenched her fists when Atobe finally gave in and smirked—he was _laughing_ at her! The _JERK_!

"ATOBE KEIGO!"

Sakuno was in the middle of pleasantly devising ways to _wring_ Atobe's neck when she heard the shrill yell that threatened to burst her eardrums. She blinked and realised the screech belonged to a well-dressed girl with chin-length blonde hair from across the hall. The girl was trying to get in, but two security guards were holding her back. "How DARE you handle me this way!" the screeching continued. "Do you know who I am? I am Misaka Tomoe, daughter of the President of Misaka Group _and _Atobe Keigo's fiancée! If you don't release me this_ instant_, I will make you suffer for this indignity!"

The slowly gathering onlookers shifted their eyes from Misaka Tomoe, then to Atobe, who wore a disinterested look that bordered on the insulting. Probably, Sakuno sighed to herself, because he had an endless line of girls throwing that fiancée shtick at him every other day. She watched as he waved a dismissive hand. "Ore-sama does not recall ever agreeing to any engagement. Besides—" he glanced down at Sakuno, who blinked in surprise, and bestowed upon her a half-grin that looked dangerously genuine "—he already _has_ a charming lady by his side."

Atobe-san really was an amazing actor, Sakuno thought as she turned her head uneasily. Because at that moment, if she hadn't known any better, he looked almost _smitten_ with her.

"WHAT?!" Tomoe looked like she was choking on bile as she glared from Sakuno, to Atobe, back to Sakuno, then back to Atobe again. "You're not _serious_, right?"

"Yeah, he's not serious, right?" echoed a wide-eyed Kirihara amid the throng of observers. The four Rikkai students stood not far from this scene—which seemed to be the brainchild of a badly written Asian drama—wearing almost identical looks of astonishment (except, of course, for Sanada, whose interest was expertly hidden beneath a thin-lipped expression deserving of Tezuka's approval). The boys drew some attention of their own given that three of the regulars (yes, even Jackal, for failing to stop the two brats) were sporting bright red hand marks on their cheeks. Kirihara and Niou had extra bumps on their heads courtesy of a wooden kendo sword because, as Sanada had coldly pointed out, they tried to blame each other instead of taking responsibility for their own actions.

Kirihara could hardly believe it. Gentle Ryuuzaki-chan was actually da-dat—he couldn't quite spit it out even in his head—_dating _that King of Snobs, Atobe Keigo! Umm, not that he was really bothered by this piece of news. Still, in his opinion, Ryuuzaki-chan deserved _so_ much better!

Niou was cackling (on the inside; he'd already used up his receive-Sanada's-slap-for-the-day quota). Wait till he unleashed his campaign of mass mockery against Marui and—he sneaked an evil smirk in the frozen Kirihara's direction—this kid over here. Fun times ahead!

Jackal sighed as he messaged his still stinging cheek. This didn't bode well. Not at all.

Sanada, who had stayed back if only to resume his discussion with Sakuno, wondered how this was going to affect Rikkai's performance. His expression darkened when half the possibilities weren't to his liking.

Meanwhile, a self-conscious Sakuno, who suddenly found herself smack-dab under undesirable limelight, shrank into Atobe's side and impulsively grabbed at the taller boy's jacket. "Ore-sama is _very_ serious," Atobe said, eyes narrowing as his arm protectively shielded Sakuno from the glares being sent her way. He took a moment to send warning glares of his own at his many admirers and the disapproving upper-crust elites in the crowd; all of whom averted their eyes and suddenly found the walls extremely interesting.

"But she doesn't _deserve_ to stand by your side!" The volume of Tomoe's voice ascended to inhumanly high decibels. "What does that-that _nobody_ have that I don't have anyway?!" Certainly not superior looks or wealth. Just look at what that commoner was wearing!

"To begin with, Ryuuzaki-chan isn't a brainless _shrew_!" Kirihara couldn't take it anymore and shouted back at the snooty socialite he had dubbed a shrew. Jackal quickly grabbed Kirihara's arm to prevent him from doing anything stupid—like marching over and threatening her bodily harm. Another smack from Sanada, Jackal sighed in his head, and their faces would be hurting for a _month_.

Anger heated Tomoe's face as she hissed at Kirihara, "You insolent BRAT! As soon as I'm done with that wretched, drab little commoner I'll—"

"_Silence_." The steely ruthlessness of Atobe's single command suddenly enveloped the room as all amusement vanished from his now ominous expression. He practically _radiated_ glacial authority as he eyed the blanching Tomoe as if she were a speck of dirt polluting his regal breathing space. Everyone fell silent as the temperature of the room seemed to drop to sub-zero degrees. Sakuno swallowed, realising that this was a glimpse of Atobe Keigo when he was _really_ mad. "Get that girl out of here," Atobe ordered the security guards with an indifferent flick of his wrist. "She is making Ore-sama lose his good mood."

He proceeded to grab the trembling hand clutching at his jacket and towed Sakuno away from the sputtering Tomoe, who couldn't believe how seriously Atobe was acting. It wasn't as if this was the first time she'd interfered in one of his dates (which had been why security guards had been on the lookout for her), and Atobe had _never_ cared when she offended any of the women he was with before. Tomoe would later suffer another blow that evening when a phone call from Atobe's butler kindly informed her that the young master had finally decided to pursue that restraining order he'd threatened the last time they spoke.

The crowd parted like the Red Sea for the imposing Atobe and his date. When they passed the Rikkaidai regulars, Atobe granted Sanada a curt nod of acknowledgement (while ignoring the other three, much to their chagrin), and Sanada returned the nod. Sakuno was about to timidly smile at the foursome before remembering they were schoolyard bullies who may or may not be planning to wipe her from the plane of existence; she quickly looked down and moved closer to Atobe.

The Rikkai boys proceeded to lose themselves in their own profound thoughts as they stared at the backs of the unlikely couple. Sanada, in particular, was hoping that the official unavailability of Ryuuzaki Sakuno meant she would no longer pose a threat to Rikkaidai's future. Glancing at the frowning Kirihara and the smirking Niou, Sanada had a hunch—call it a fukubuchou's intuition, if you will—that his hope had a_ snowball's chance in hell_ and that he'd better keep his wilder teammates on a tight leash.

Well, Sakuno thought as Atobe pulled her to a refreshment table, that was a rather...interesting experience. "Atobe-san," she mused out loud, "you seem to have a lot of fiancées."

"Ore-sama doesn't have a fiancée. Only girls who _wished_ they were his fiancée," he corrected her with a rakish grin, his tone no longer filled with icy contempt, much to Sakuno's relief. He snapped two fingers and a server rushed to his side.

Sakuno courteously turned down the server's offer to provide her drinks, more pressing concerns on her mind. Perhaps she was being a busybody, but as Atobe's partner in this little charade they were playing for an uninformed audience, she felt that she had a right to ask. "So then, umm, Misaka-san..."

Atobe sighed with an air of cultivated boredom. "Ore-sama went on a date with her _once_. Ah, it was an arranged meeting between our grandfathers. Purely business. Afterwards, she became obsessed with the idea that she would someday become Ore-sama's fiancée." He grinned in a most patronising manner. "Ah, but Ore-sama gives her points for her enthusiasm. After all, who could blame the fairer sex for being so enthralled by Ore-sama's _awesome_ prowess?" He was interrupted from further annoying Sakuno when a few twittering girls came forward to slobber—err, chat with him. None of them, however, dared to cast even a single glance at Sakuno in case it earned Atobe-sama's wrath.

Sakuno frowned to herself. While she didn't have particularly warm feelings for his fangirls, it didn't mean this puffed-up peacock should be free to speak of women in general with such blatant disrespect. In fact, she wouldn't be surprised if the pampered heir of the Atobe business empire honestly _believed_ that her gender had been created for the sole purpose of worshipping at his expensive Italian leather shoes. Sakuno's frown deepened as she watched Atobe put on his signature charm with the giggling girls and thought this side of Atobe-san was very different from Ryoma-kun, who wasn't a deliberate lady-killer. No, Ryoma-kun stole hearts—like her unsuspecting one—unintentionally...

_If only he'd give it back..._

Her depressing thoughts stopped when she felt the prickling heat of homicidal stares focusing like unrelenting lasers on her. Well, to be exact, on Atobe's arm around her shoulders. It was the socialites standing a safe distance from across the room, their eyes trained on young Ryuuzaki and whispering conspiratorially with each other. Probably, Sakuno mused, they were having a strategy meeting on how best to have her hanging by her pigtails over a pit of poisonous snakes. She gulped as her self-preservation instincts kicked into high gear. "Err, Atobe-san," Sakuno began as respectfully as possible, "c-could you, umm, let go?"

Unfortunately, this had the _opposite_ effect of making Atobe pull her even _closer_ to him. Which, of course, _increased_ the level of murderous intent. She cringed even as her cheeks flushed from the sudden proximity to Atobe's body. Great. She was going to die a premature death, and she hadn't even fulfilled her dream of opening her own pastry shop yet! Gritting her teeth through a taut smile, Sakuno glowered discreetly at the haughty tennis star who had so casually signed her death warrant and wished upon his stubborn head the infliction of Justin Bieber music. On repeat. _For eternity._

Fuji Syuusuke would have shed a proud tear at the success of his influence.

After Atobe made a mercifully short conversation with some business bigwig (Sakuno squirming all the way while gazing at the nearest door), he finally excused himself from the captivated audience lapping up his every word. Placing a hand on the small of her back, he propelled Sakuno toward the exit with him. It was over, she thought in sagging relief once Atobe let go of her to make a call for his chauffeur. Now she just had to endure the ride home and then she would be free to—

"Sakuno-chan," Atobe's disapproving voice interrupted her pleasant daydreams of curling on a couch and napping her exhaustion away, "don't bother to entertain the drivel of those slack-jawed fools. Their prattling may contaminate your brain by second-hand idiocy."

She blinked.

"Sakuno-chan should have more self-confidence," he declared in all his infinite Ore-sama wisdom as he led the way to the lobby. "Otherwise, she will be overlooked by those with visions vastly inferior to Ore-sama's. Alas—" he flicked his wrist disdainfully "—there is an unhealthy amount of such oxygen-thieves overpopulating the planet."

It struck Sakuno like a thunderbolt then. She set aside her irritation at Atobe's (completely _right_, darn him) rebuke at her rather low self-esteem to gape at him in shock. Had this insufferable jerk—who had _twice_ the histrionics and _thrice_ the vanity of Snow White's Wicked Stepmother—only _left _from being the centre of attention because he'd noticed her discomfort?

"Sakuno-chan was handpicked by Ore-sama himself," Atobe went on as he nodded at a passing elderly gentleman who was the CEO of an international hotel chain, "which means she is _more_ than worthy of being by Ore-sama's much coveted side. Unless—" he eyed Sakuno with an arched eyebrow "—you are questioning Ore-sama's_ impeccable _judgement?"

She was _this _close to bursting out into laughter. So, Sakuno thought as her mouth twitched, he really _was_ trying to comfort her in his weird, alien way. Come to think of it, his proud roundabout thoughtfulness reminded her somewhat of...of Ryoma-kun, who could easily challenge Atobe-san for first place in a Most Arrogant Display of Kindness contest. The thought softened her heart. "Does this mean Atobe-san's judgement has_ never _been in error?" she asked in mock seriousness.

"Of course." Atobe's aristocratic nose was so high in the air she was surprised he didn't fall backward. "And Ore-sama's judgment is worth _all _their vapid opinions combined by _at least_ a thousand times over."

Clearly _he_ didn't have any issues with self-esteem. Sakuno bit back a chuckle. She had to admit, she wouldn't mind if he shared some of that obvious surplus of ego with her. Maybe a tenth? No, she might still develop a _massive_ Queen complex, which was a super terrifying idea if only for the poor Seigaku population who wouldn't know _what _had hit them. As Inui-sempai would say, best make it 0.01 percent _just_ to be on the safe side.

Unaware of Sakuno poking gentle fun at him in her head (and refusing to feel guilty for it as he'd made fun of her earlier), Atobe's shoulders relaxed somewhat on seeing her more cheerful expression and, without thinking much of it, he reached out to take one of her delicate hands in his.

Sakuno really should be used to how touchy-feely this arrogant rich boy could be. But, for the first time, her eyes couldn't help but notice that his wrist was almost twice the width of hers. And, she observed with a trace of fascination, he had really long, masculine fingers with immaculately trimmed nails. She wiggled her hand and felt the palm holding hers was rather callused. No doubt—she almost smiled—from training hard in tennis. Knowing Atobe's practically terminal narcissism, it must surely be a source of much angst and overdramatic woe. No matter, Sakuno mused, she could always appreciate it for him. She raised her head and almost gasped when she found him staring down at her with a strange, darkening look in his hooded eyes. They blinked and she quickly looked away, heat rising to her cheeks.

That was scary, Sakuno thought as her pulse danced wildly. _Very_ scary.

It was instinct rather than logic which made her desperately try to tug her hand free from his grip. But Atobe wasn't willing to release her; in fact, he only_ tightened_ his hold as he walked faster down to the reception area. "A-Atobe-san," Sakuno stuttered as she struggled to keep up with his long strides, "I-I can walk without help so...so you can let go!"

He ignored her. The ceiling would have collapsed on their heads if he didn't, she thought with narrowed eyes. "Sakuno-chan said she wanted to get reference books, didn't she?" Atobe suddenly asked, eyes looking ahead as he hauled her toward the main entrance.

His abrupt, matter-of-fact words completely floored her. It also confirmed, once and for all, one of her deeply held suspicions. So—Sakuno felt her eye twitch—_all this time_, his ears were actually in _perfectly_ working condition? This 'Grand Poobah' of Hyotei just didn't bother _telling_ her he had heard her plans because he _assumed_ she was born with the special ability to mind-read his grandiose intentions? Sakuno was so befuddled (and irritated) by this not-quite-unexpected revelation that all she could splutter was an intelligent: "Wh-What?"

"Any specific bookshop?" Atobe continued, sounding for all the world like it was _he _who had Mother Teresa-like patience as the main doors automatically slid open for them.

Despite her vexation at his impossible behaviour, sudden warmth bubbled inside her chest. This boy, Sakuno thought as her lips slowly stretched into a reluctant smile, was so _strange_. "N-No. Any is fine," she replied, "as long as, umm, it has good reference books on English."

Atobe nodded his affirmation. And then, _completely_ ruining the mood, he added, "Sakuno-chan, you should reconsider Ore-sama's _more_ than generous offer. A mobile phone may seem like a small thing but—"

Sakuno fought the powerful urge to roll her eyes as her brain helpfully tuned out his lecture. And this boy had the nerve to talk about _her_ one-track mind. Atobe Keigo could easily win the dented tin crown from her head! The pigtailed girl sighed deeply and cast a half-amused, half-exasperated look at Atobe's determined features. But did her safety really mean _that_ much to him? Enough to launch into a_ looooooooooooooooong_ spiel about a mobile phone's countless benefits? Well, she was aware that Atobe-san hadn't needed to, ahem, _ask_ her (with all the persistence of a ferocious Doberman) about accepting his thoughtful 'gifts'. In his infuriating _Ore-sama-knows-best_ way, she knew he could have easily _forced _the bodyguards _and _the phone on her and that would have been the end of it; and she _did _tend to stumble into more rabbit holes now thanks to this prima donna prancing carelessly into her life, so he _should_ take some responsibility...

_Plus_, Sakuno mused as she raised her eyebrows at the bla-bla-bla-ing Atobe, _it would shut him up about the phone_.

...

Great. She had just talked herself into saying yes. _I'm probably going to regret this later_—she swallowed her hesitation as the saner half of her brain figuratively sighed and shook its head at her caving—_but I'll give him an inch_...

When they stopped in front of Atobe's limousine which had been driven to the front steps of the building, Sakuno drew a deep breath to brace herself. "Atobe-san," she interrupted him just as the completely serious Hyotei captain was about to give Point No. 14 on how a convenient phone could be the thin line between life and death, "I-I guess I don't mind. The phone, I mean."

_A-ha!_ Atobe's smirk was annoyingly triumphant as he snapped his fingers. On cue, the _same_ poor, overworked servant she recognised from earlier instantly popped up behind the startled Sakuno to graciously offer her the iPhone. The young heir crossed his arms, watching Sakuno's expression as she shyly thanked the manservant and apologised for the troubles he had suffered on her behalf. Atobe spared a fleeting thought at how always considerate of others Sakuno-chan was, and then returned to more important matters. Like—he closed his eyes and stroked his chin with a self-satisfied grin—how he _knew_ she would give in eventually. Ah, but it must have been his _incomparable_ charm, which had broken down his sweet, timid Sakuno-chan's surprisingly high defences! Not that it wasn't understandable, of course. Not even the Walls of Jericho could withstand his _dashing_ siege once the Great Atobe Keigo set his mind to—

"But," Sakuno burst his ballooning fantasy with a metaphorical prick of reality, "I'm returning it to Atobe-san as soon as I get my own. _And_—" she wagged a finger at him "—I'm paying for my phone bills."

Atobe frowned at the compromise she was offering. His displeased expression made Sakuno stick out her chin with that defiant spark in her eyes. He was caught between sighing at how utterly _exasperating_ she was being, and thinking that Sakuno-chan was so, _so_ adorable when she looked like that. Well, a...a _compromise_—Atobe's eye twitched once—wasn't something an Almighty Ruler _usually_ tolerated. But...with all the clemency of a thoughtful monarch such as his splendid self, he would let it go _this_ once...for now away. If it would get his stubborn Sakuno-chan to actually appreciate the importance of her security. (He _could_, after all, always change her mind later with his _masterful_ persuasion skills.) Now—Atobe tapped his chin in deep, profound thought—the next step would be to get her a lifetime supply of pepper sprays, a stun gun, the _thickest_ bulletproof vest available, maybe talk her into enlisting in some self-defence classes, and then...

Clueless of his devious schemes to further micromanage her life, Sakuno studied the iPhone in her hand with an appreciative expression. Her first mobile phone. Granted, it wasn't the method she would have wanted (and she was too terrified of a premature cardiac arrest to ask about the mind-boggling price he probably paid without batting an eyelash), but she _finally_ had one. For now anyway. And as soon as she possibly could, thought Sakuno, she would replace the overly flashy case with something plainer. Otherwise, knowing her _fantastic _luck, she would most certainly be the victim of an enthusiastic mugger before the week ended. With that, Sakuno looked up to gaze at her secretly plotting companion and felt a rush of warmth for all his distinctively Atobe kindness. "Atobe-san...thank you," she said, her lips curving into a soft smile.

For some baffling reason, this made Atobe abruptly cease all movement except to gaze back at her with unusual intensity. He opened his mouth as if to speak and closed it again as if he'd changed his mind; instead, he turned his head to the side, covering his face with one hand until only the tips of his ears betrayed his blush. Sakuno looked at Atobe in concern, brows furrowing as she wondered at his suddenly even _stranger_ behaviour. In the blink of an eye, however, he was back to his smirking '_Ore-sama-is-The-Best-Thing-Since-Sliced-Bread_' self again. He was going to have a brief talk with (more like command) the chauffeur to get them to the best bookshop in all of Tokyo, Atobe explained with a grand flourish of his arms; and off he swaggered before Sakuno could ask if he had somehow slammed his head against the limousine door without her noticing.

As soon as his back was turned, however, his confident smirk faded and he reached up to grab at his chest with wide, panicking eyes. Now, Atobe Keigo—whom everyone _knew_ was the very embodiment of calm, cool and collected—_never _panicked, but something absolutely_ bizarre_ was going on.

Even without his finely honed Insight, he couldn't have failed to notice her smiling _that_ smile. Granted, Sakuno-chan smiled often. Shyly, awkwardly, cutely. But there was a special kind of smile she held in reserve; only occasionally revealing the full glory of its simple beauty to her grandmother along with—Atobe scowled to himself—his archrival Tezuka and the rest of those _aggravating_ Seigaku buffoons. Ah, he could imagine it clearly with his spectacular power of recollection! Her large, expressive brown eyes sparkling brightly, Sakuno's pink lips—unsullied by a mountain of makeup—would curve up from ear to ear with that pure, innocent smile brimming with her sweetest, most heartfelt affection...

He sighed.

In his _highly_ esteemed and _completely_ unbiased opinion, it was one of the loveliest smiles he had ever had the pleasure to behold. But, Atobe grudgingly admitted to himself (and _only_ himself), Sakuno-chan had never smiled at _him_ in that way.

Until now.

He was smug, of course. Ah, but Sakuno-chan could be so delightfully slow! What took her so long to appreciate the devastating pull of his suave charisma? Why, to know Atobe Keigo was to love—no, _worship_ him!

What _was_, however, worrying him enough to consider frantically calling for his personal physician was the movement of his insides. It was acting funny. Rolling upside-down and inside-out like a bad rollercoaster experience. And his breathing, too, was coming up short and fast.

This was...odd.

It must have been the late lunch he'd had that afternoon, Atobe very cleverly decided as he absently ran his fingers through the perfection that was his hair. Yes! There must have been something _bad_ in it. Later, he would have those absolutely _hopeless_ five-star (hah!) chefs _answer_ for their bumbling incompetence! Because, really, there was no other logical reason why he should feel his heart racing an Olympic marathon—twice over!—ever since Ryuuzaki Sakuno graced him with the first genuinely affectionate smile she had ever directed at him.

* * *

**On her return...**

* * *

"Obaa-chan, I'm home!" Sakuno took off her sandals and placed them on the shoe rack. Then she entered the lounge area with three reference books (which she had insisted she would pay back, much to Atobe's exasperation) and an iPhone box securely carried in her arms. She temporarily deposited them on top of a nearby counter and followed the delicious smell drifting from the kitchen.

Sumire had just taken out dinner from the oven when she heard the sound of Sakuno's gentle voice. She'd heard from Tezuka (along with receiving a surprisingly dutiful phone call from Atobe) about Sakuno's date, and so she'd expected Sakuno's later-than-usual arrival home. Before her granddaughter could offer to help, Ryuuzaki-sensei immediately pounced. "Welcome back. How was your date?" she asked, sounding about as serene as Fuji-sempai right before he delivered unholy retribution toward anyone who would have the _guts_ to harm his family.

"Oh, it wasn't, umm, too bad." Sakuno hesitated, then continued with a shy smile, "Atobe-san took me book shopping at the end. It was...kind of fun." Or maybe it was all the books surrounding her at the shop. Books always did have a calming effect on her. It also helped that Atobe's characteristic pomposity had toned down a notch during the trip. Maybe he'd been tired, too...

Sumire studied the small crease on her granddaughter's forehead, then her gaze zoomed in on the iPhone in Sakuno's hand. Difficult to miss, really, with the bling-bling of fine glistening crystals and platinum plating. "I've never seen you with _that _before," Ryuuzaki-sensei said as her eyebrows angled upward.

"Oh..." The pigtailed girl looked down at the phone she had meant to show her grandmother. "Atobe-san persuaded me to have it." Well, it was more like he had tried to _badger_ her into submission...but Sumire didn't need to know that. Sakuno's smile dropped into a little frown. It was reasonable for Atobe-san to pay for the outlandish dates _he_ dragged her into but, she thought firmly, personal items like these had to be all her own. "He wanted me to have it for my own safety, so I accepted it. But I told him I'd give it back to him as soon as I saved up enough for a decent mobile."

Times like these, Sumire thought with a proud beam, made her realise how positively _Ryuuzaki-like_ her introverted Sakuno was. "Have you tested it out?" the old woman asked.

"No. Not yet." Sakuno looked at the iPhone and tried to figure out how to switch it on. Hmm...Atobe-san had mentioned it was this button, didn't he...?

Her jaw almost fell out of its hinges as a wallpaper of Atobe Keigo, dressed in kingly finery while majestically posing with one elbow resting on the mantel of a roaring fireplace (which was purposely positioned to cast _just _the right amount of silhouette upon his exquisite profile), greeted her incredulous eyes. In fact, he was only missing a crown to go with the outfit!

And then she heard it. The ring...no, _singtone_, for it sounded like Atobe had recorded himself _personally _singing the lines in a professional studio. The lyrics, Sakuno realised with gradually rounding eyes, were basically a monument to his beauty. More precisely, the beauty of the mole under his right eye.

_CHAAMU POINTO wa naki bokuro __  
__GOOJASU hokuro __  
__Itsudemo migi me no shita ni aru __  
__CHAAMU POINTO wa naki bokuro __  
__Kiken na hokuro __  
__Sonna ni mitsumecha kega suru ze..._

Of course, the person who was calling her in all his uncanny timing was none other than the Magnificent, the Glorious, the _Phenomenal _Atobe Keigo himself. He was eagerly awaiting Sakuno's breathless, awe-inspired opinion on his gallant consideration in choosing for her the _perfect _wallpaper and the _perfect _singtone...which was just the beginning of all the surprises he had in store for her. Ah, Atobe thought smugly to himself at his end of the call, now Sakuno-chan would feel even safer knowing that he would _always_ be with her—even when he wasn't!

There was, for a short while, total silence from the motionless grandmother and granddaughter pair, as if the heavenly music of 'Chaamu Pointo Wa Naki Bokuro' had somehow short-circuited their ability to speak, or indeed, think.

When, at last, the singtone stopped assaulting their ears, Sakuno snapped out of it. Her eyebrow started twitching as she slowly and cautiously put down the too-expensive-for-its-own-good mobile on the kitchen counter. She then very deliberately turned off the iPhone and stared at it for a good, long while. To assuage her guilty conscience, she would call him back later. _Much _later. Because right now, all she wanted was some much needed nourishment. After all, as Momo and Eiji-sempai would wholeheartedly agree, she couldn't very well do battle on an empty stomach; and when the opponent was Atobe Keigo, she would need all the battle food she could get.

* * *

**TBC**

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_**A/N:**_ Wow. A much longer chapter than anticipated. Thanks for the support so far, everyone! School's been swamping me, and I've finally got myself a part-time job for some time. Busy, busy, busy. Expect some more Rikkai in the coming chapters!


End file.
